


If I Die Young

by orphan_account



Series: If I Die Young [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bonding, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire had accepted that he would die. A defiled omega such as himself would never find anyone willing to bond with him, meaning he would never survive his first heat. But that did not mean he would let what was left of his life be taken from him.</p><p>He never intended to meet Courfeyrac, another defiled omega with little hope left. Together, they thought they'd be able to be happy for what years they had left.</p><p>They didn't plan on meeting the Les Amis de l'ABC. And they definitely didn't expect falling in love with the group's leaders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Still working on the next chapter of Little White Lies for those waiting! This chapter is being more difficult than the last, but it's coming!
> 
> In the meantime, this is an A/B/O story that has been bouncing in my head for a few days. Hope you enjoy!

Grantaire watched from the upstairs window as Pierre’s sheet-swaddled body was taken out the back door of Patron-Minette by two of the Thenardiers’ men. He felt sick as he watched them continue on to the field behind the property, knowing they were headed towards the deep hole dug yesterday in anticipation of Pierre’s death.

One day, that would be him.

He turned away and retreated to the corner he had claimed for his sleeping mat. He was already eighteen. How many years did he have left? The average age of first heat was twenty five, but Pierre had only been twenty three. He had tried to write the signs off as the flu, but the Thenardiers had known. Grantaire could tell by their shark-like smiles that they had known.

And they had locked him in a room when it hit and sold him to as many alphas as possible. And they had no shortage of willing customers.

It disgusted Grantaire to know there were so many alphas willing to pay out the nose for the chance to fuck an omega in heat, even knowing that the omega would be dead before the heat ended. Disgusted him, but did not surprise him. After all, they were the same alphas who would pay to fuck an omega before their first heat, knowing the chances of a defiled omega finding a bondmate were slim to none.

And omegas didn’t survive their first heat without bonding, a point hammered home to Grantaire by the body that was just carried out of the brothel to be disposed of as if he were no more than a sack of garbage.

Grantaire set his jaw in determination, staring out the window in decision. If he was doomed to die, he definitely wasn’t going to spend his last years as the Thenardiers’ whore.

He was getting out of here even if it killed him. One way or another, he was getting out.

#

Courfeyrac stared at the seventeen-year-old omega staring back at him in the mirror. The dark circles under his lifeless brown eyes contrasted sharply with the flashy white and gold wedding garments his mother had chosen for him. His dark curls, though shining brightly from the special shampoo meant to mask his true scent, hung listless beneath the gaudy gold circlet placed on his head.

Perhaps his parents thought that if they covered him in enough finery then no one would question if they caught a whiff of something odd in his scent, he thought bitterly.

He shouldn’t be so bitter, he knew. This was really his fault. If he hadn’t been so _stupid_ , maybe he wouldn’t have fallen for Andre’s pretty words of love and forever. He really shouldn’t have been surprised when the alpha had disappeared as soon summer was over, leaving him defiled and ruined in the eyes of society.

His parents would tell him that he should be grateful that they had arranged this marriage so quickly. Never mind that his future husband was nearly forty years older than him and was really only after the dowry his parents were providing. Well, it probably wasn’t the _only_ thing he was after, he corrected himself with a shudder.

But his parents were happy. Courfeyrac was to be married off to a wealthy man with a respectable name and his act of indiscretion would no longer be their problem.

What did it matter to them if Courfeyrac was sure that he would never be able to love his soon-to-be husband?

Love wasn’t strictly necessary for a bond to form, but the possibility had to be there. Courfeyrac had heard numerous tales about omegas who had died during their heat because they were forced into loveless marriages. That was precisely why marriage contracts were outlawed.

Of course, this had been anticipated by all parties, and his parents had agreed with his fiancé that Courfeyrac would see a fertility doctor in order to be impregnated before his heat came on.

Which really meant that it might not even matter if he would be able to bond with his husband during his heat. The procedures used to impregnate an omega before heat were dangerous, and the resulting pregnancies extremely high risk.

Not that Courfeyrac was meant to know any of this. Omegas weren’t supposed to be well-learned. They were meant to be trophies, nothing more. They weren’t supposed to be educated, and they definitely weren’t supposed to be employed. Really, Courfeyrac didn’t have much of a choice in whether to go through with this marriage. What else could he do?

He started at the thought, brown eyes finally showing some spark. Had he actually been considering not going through with the marriage?

A fearful excitement raced through him at the thought. He could do it. He had enough cash on hand to get by for at least a couple weeks, having been given it for pocket money on his honeymoon. Hell, he was already packed. All he had to do was grab his suitcase and walk out the front door. No one would question him. No one would see him. Everyone would be out back, waiting for his grand entrance.

He could purchase some black market scent-masking shampoo. Not the kind his parents had used to make him smell like an un-defiled omega, but one that would disguise him as a beta. He could get a job. He could live his life the way _he_ wanted to live it.

A life that wouldn’t last very long.

But his life here only had a slight chance of lasting longer. Shouldn’t his remaining life at least be as happy as he could make it?

Steeling his nerves, his quickly stripped out of his wedding clothes, throwing the gold circlet and all the jewelry in his room in a knapsack with his money on a whim, figuring he may be able to pawn it when his funds ran low.

He grabbed his suitcase and knapsack and walked out the door without a second glance.

#

Leaving Patron-Minette hadn’t been easy. It had taken him months to gather enough funds to get by. He pickpocketed as much from his clients as he dared, not wanting to take so much that they would miss the cash. In the end, it hadn’t nearly been enough and he was far too impatient to leave to bother with being subtle. He had waited until midday when everyone was sleeping and had snuck into the Thenardiers’ office.

Getting into the safe was easy. He had seen Monsieur Thenardier open it a while back and had remembered the combination. He didn’t feel guilty taking the money. It had been made by selling his and other omegas’ bodies, using them up until there was literally nothing left. Taking it was only doling out justice.

He had carefully locked the safe back and left as quickly as he could, hoping to be as far away as possible before the theft was noticed.

They would hunt him, he knew, but they would be looking for an omega, likely searching the streets for unspoken-for prostitutes. After all, what other jobs were there for omegas like him? And there were very few dealers who would sell a defiled omega a scent-disguising shampoo.

Thankfully, he had someone he could go to in order to beg for help.

Admittedly, Eponine wasn’t thrilled to see him on her doorstep. But then, Eponine was never really thrilled to see anyone. She was especially not happy to see him, though, because it meant her parents’ thugs might not be far behind him.

“I need help, Ep,” he pleaded, not nearly too proud to beg. “Please. I don’t have long left. Won’t you help a dying man out?”

She glared before she rolled her eyes, demeanor softening slightly. “You can stay the night and I’ll get you some scent-dampeners, but I want you gone by tomorrow night.”

It was more than he expected, and it saved him the money it would have taken for a cheap motel room for the night. Once his scent was disguised, he could get his own shampoo. He’d get a job and stay at a motel until he could afford an apartment. He would be alright.

He _would_.

For a few years, at least.

#

This was a terrible idea, he thought as he sat with his head in his hands on the crummy motel mattress. His funds were quickly depleting and he had yet to find a contact that would help him get something to mask his scent.

Well, there had been the one guy who seemed willing, but the price that went unspoken in the leer he had given him was far more than Courfeyrac was willing to pay.

He still had the jewelry that he could sell, if he could find a buyer willing to buy from an omega like him. The money from that could hold him over until he was able to find a dealer. Then he could disguise himself as a beta and get a job. He just had to be a little more patient.

God, who was he kidding? No one was going to sell scent-disguisers to a defiled omega. From what he could tell, most of those that dealt in such illicit items were in league with the pimps who made money from omegas like him. They weren’t going to sell to someone obviously either trying to avoid or escape that lifestyle.

Maybe he should just go back home. His parents or ex-fiancé would probably find him anyway once he pawned his jewelry. He was sure they had spun some fanciful tale of him falling ill or something and merely postponed the wedding. Admitting he had run would only make them lose face.

A tear ran down his cheek as he realized his choice was between whoring himself out on the streets for money or becoming the kept-whore to a man three times his age, and neither came with a very long life expectancy.

He shook his head forcefully as he stood, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. He wasn’t going to choose either. If he was going to die, it would be in a manner of his own choosing.

He would not live a life riddled with inescapable cruelty.

He’d rather die.

#

Grantaire felt more content than he had ever felt before. It wasn’t quite happiness, but it was good.

After working three jobs for nearly a month, he had finally saved enough money to put a deposit on a small studio apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was in a slightly better neighborhood and got him out of the crummy, cockroach infested motel he had been living in.

So wrapped up in his own contentment as he walked towards his motel room to gather the last of his things, he didn’t even notice the door nearest him open and a young man dart out until they collided with each other.

“Sorry,” the stranger said, taking a cautious step back and eying Grantaire warily.

“It was partly my fault,” he replied, waving off the apology and looking closely at the other man—other omega—in concern. There were noticeable tear tracks down his face and a look of hopelessness and defeat in his eyes that Grantaire was definitely no stranger to.

“Are you okay?”

A choked laugh came from the omega. “Am I okay? Of course I’m not! But it will all be over soon,” he said with a shake of his head, moving as if to step past Grantaire.

Fear curled in Grantaire’s belly at the words. He didn’t know this omega, but he couldn’t just step aside and let him do what Grantaire thought he was about to do.

He grabbed the other’s arm and dragged him towards his room.

“Let me go!” he cried in a panic, trying desperately to escape his grip. He might have been able to had he not obviously missed a few too many meals in recent weeks.

“If you think I’m just going to let you go off and kill yourself, you’ve got another thing coming,” he snapped, opening his room and dragging the other omega inside.

“I’m dead anyway,” he said softly, slumping into a chair. “I don’t see the point in dragging it out if the only life available to me is one of misery and despair.”

Grantaire saw the logic behind the sentiment. If Eponine hadn’t helped him, he might have found himself in a similar predicament. The difference between them was that Grantaire knew his way around the streets and this man obviously did not. “What’s your name?”

“Courfeyrac,” he replied hesitantly.

He was obviously someone hiding from his past, much like Grantaire. That much was evident by the hesitation in giving his name. Grantaire absently wondered if he had been defiled by choice or by force, but decided it didn’t matter.

“Okay, Courfeyrac, I’m Grantaire,” he said. “And I know things are tough right now, but I’m going to help you out if you’ll let me. First, you’re going to use some of my shampoo to hide your scent.”

Courfeyrac’s eyes went wide with shock and relief. “You mean you’re an…”

“I’m just like you,” he said, giving the other omega a meaningful look. “But I had help and I’m giving you help. So you’re going to use my shampoo and then you’re going to move in with me in my crappy new apartment. Maybe between the two of us, we can save up enough money to move into a slightly nicer crappy apartment later on.”

Tears of gratitude swam in Courfeyrac’s eyes before he lunged at Grantaire and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he half-sobbed into his chest.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he mumbled, awkwardly wrapping his arms around the other omega. “Life still isn’t going to be sunshine and daisies.”

Courfeyrac shook his head and looked up at him with a small smile. “But it’s still a life on our terms. That’s more than I thought possible ten minutes ago.”

How a man ready to kill himself ten minutes ago could be so optimistic _now_ was beyond Grantaire, but he couldn’t shake the hopeful feeling Courfeyrac’s optimism awakened in his own cynical heart.

Maybe this was the start of something good for the both of them. It obviously wouldn’t last long, but they could make their remaining years something worth living.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter Two

Courfeyrac eyed the clock in anticipation as it inched closer to the end of his shift. Ten more minutes, and the rest of the weekend was his.

He didn’t really mind working the Saturday morning shift at the café. He was usually busy with the breakfast crowd, then the brunch crowd, and then the lunch crowd so the time went by quickly and he got a good amount in tips. The last hour, though, always crept by _so slowly_.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed when the bell above the door signaled the arrival of a new customer. He decided on annoyed when he caught sight of the man. Obviously alpha by his tall stature, the man was dressed in an expensive suit and carried an air of self-importance about him.

Straightening from his position leaning against the counter, he plastered on a smile and grabbed his order pad, grateful this time to hear the bell signaling the arrival of another customer as it gave him a reason to be done with the alpha as soon as possible.

“Good afternoon, sir,” he chirped as cheerfully as he could, knowing from experience that it annoyed these types of alphas but also knowing that it wasn’t something they could actually complain about. “What can I get you?”

The alpha looked up at him, distaste clearly on his face which quickly morphed into a look of angry disgust. “You can get me your manager so that I can have words with him over hiring someone of your… status,” he said with an ugly sneer.

Courfeyrac’s blood ran cold. No, he had showered this morning, just as he always did. His scent shouldn’t even hint at him being anything but a beta.

“If you have a problem with a beta serving you,” he shot back with an air of defiance he most certainly did not feel. “I promise you that my beta manager will agree that you should leave now, sir.”

The alpha stood and stared down at him. It took every ounce of strength Courfeyrac possessed to meet his eyes and not to look down in submission. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to back down. He couldn’t do that though. If he did, he’d only prove the alpha right.

“You expect me to believe that a runt like you is actually a beta?” he asked in a threatening voice.

“While I thank you very much for pointing out my height deficiency,” Courfeyrac replied with a forced exasperated eye roll. He noted with disgust that there was mucus dripping out of the taller man’s nose. That explained a lot and gave Courfeyrac just enough bravado to continue. “I can assure you that I am within the normal height range of a beta male.”

And he was, barely. God, it was times like these that he envied Grantaire being tall enough of an omega to easily pass for a beta. He wanted this confrontation over as swiftly as possible. He wasn’t sure if he could hold it together for much longer. He already had to keep his hands balled at his sides to keep them from trembling.

“If you had brains enough to use your nose,” a smooth, deep voice cut in. “You’d know that he is telling the truth. If I were you, I’d leave before someone called the authorities on you for threatening the wait staff.”

The alpha turned to size up the newcomer, but Courfeyrac didn’t want to take his eyes off the threat in front of him. The alpha, though, apparently didn’t like his chances with Courfeyrac’s savior. He scoffed and turned away, leaving without further comment.

Courfeyrac wanted to collapse in relief but knew he couldn’t in front of the stranger, alpha too if his scent was anything to go by. He turned slowly and smiled shakily at him, marveling slightly at how attractive a figure he struck and absently noting that his artistically-minded roommate would be itching for some charcoal if he were here.

“Thanks for that,” he said, his voice sounding far too breathless to his own ears.

The new alpha looked at him in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” he replied quickly. Only omegas would have been so disturbed by the other alpha’s actions. Only omegas would be sensitive to the pheromones the alpha had given off in his display of dominance. He had to keep up the pretense of being a beta. Everything depended on it.

The alpha studied him for a moment and glanced towards the door. “He wasn’t wrong, was he?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he managed to force out. “You can smell that I’m a beta.”

“Scents can be misleading,” the blond alpha stated.

Courfeyrac was spared from answering as Maurice walked through the door to take the next shift. He desperately greeted his replacement before dashing behind the counter to remove his apron with shaking hands.

Maybe if he ignored the alpha, he would leave it alone. He couldn’t let his secret be out. He’d lose this job, and probably his other one too. And they’d have to move again. If whispers reached certain ears of an omega in disguise… Well, it wasn’t worth thinking of.

The alpha was gone when Courfeyrac turned around, causing him to sigh in relief. His relief was short-lived, however, as he was simply waiting for him on the sidewalk outside the café.

“It’s okay, you know,” he said hesitantly, falling into step with Courfeyrac. “I didn’t mean to be so blunt in there. I’ve been told that sometimes I come on too strong. I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“And what will your silence cost?” he asked wearily, too used to this song and dance. It was always him that slipped up.

He had never been good at deception growing up and he never grew to have a good grasp of it. The price of keeping his secret was normally sexual in nature. He had never taken an offer up, though logically he knew that it didn’t really make a difference. But even with all that had happened, he still had the romanticized notion of sex that made the idea of it without love revolting to him.

He had been sorely tempted the last time, knowing how close the people hunting them had gotten before, but knew Grantaire would skin him alive if he tried.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him, causing him to tense. He stopped walking, but didn’t look at the alpha next to him.

“You’ve misunderstood me,” he said. “I don’t want anything from you. I would like to help you, if you’ll let me.”

Courfeyrac glanced at him and he looked so earnest that he couldn’t help but soften towards him. Grantaire might kill him later, but if this alpha already knew his secret, what did it hurt to talk to him?

“I appreciate it,” he said with a small smile. “But I don’t really need any help. All I need is your word that you will not tell anyone about me.”

“And you have it,” he replied readily and sincerely. “But you obviously need help. Why else would you be hiding?”

“I hide because I ran away from home and needed a job,” Courfeyrac answered, not technically lying. “I didn’t want my life to be taken out of my hands.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide to do that though!” he argued passionately.

Courfeyrac chuckled at that. “Tell me something I don’t know. But I can’t change the way things are.”

“But we could though!” he said, eyes lighting up. “If we worked together to expose the harm societal views of gender creates, then we _could_ effectuate real change.”

It was a refreshing and intriguing thought. He had never really thought about things actually changing. He and Grantaire had spent the last five years hiding from the world, changing themselves in order to survive. It never occurred to him that he wasn’t what needed to change.

“We?” he asked curiously.

The blond alpha grinned at him. “My friends and I. We call ourselves Les Amis de l’ABC. We’re an activist group working towards gender inequality. We meet Monday and Thursday nights at the Musain. You would be very welcome to join us.”

Courfeyrac considered the offer for a moment. “You won’t tell them about me?”

“It’s your secret to tell,” he assured him.

“Then I’ll try to make it,” he promised before frowning. “You never told me your name.”

“It’s Enjolras. And yours?”

“Courfeyrac.”

Enjolras smiled at him. “Then I will see you Monday night, Courfeyrac. 8:30.”

He nodded and watched the blond alpha leave.

Grantaire wasn’t going to take this well.

#

“We need to leave,” Grantaire said seriously. Courfeyrac opened his mouth to argue, but he cut him off. “Courfeyrac, you know nothing about this guy. He could be working with the Thenardiers, or for your parents or that creep they wanted you to marry. Or he could just be some sick fuck who wants to get you alone so he and his friends can do whatever they want to you. How many alphas have we been able to trust in the past?”

“Enjolras is different,” Courfeyrac insisted. “We can trust him. And if he and his friends are working towards changing views towards people like us, I’d like to be a part of it.”

“It won’t help us any,” he pointed out. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking that we’re going to get a happy ending here.”

“Maybe not, but maybe we can stop others from ending up like us,” he answered. “I want to make the time I have left mean something, Grantaire.”

He sighed and sat down on the sofa next to Courfeyrac and drew him into his arms. He had tried to keep the other omega as sheltered as possible. He probably hadn’t done him any favors, really. It allowed Courfeyrac to keep some of his trusting nature, even after it was mostly responsible for his circumstances.

That trusting nature would get him in trouble eventually. Grantaire didn’t want to think about what would happen to the other man once he was gone.

“Alright, but I’m coming with you,” he agreed finally, pulling back and looking down sternly. “And if there’s even a hint of ill intent in that room, we are leaving town.”

Courfeyrac grinned and threw his arms around him. “Thank you, R,” he whispered fiercely.

Grantaire sighed and returned the hug. Maybe this would work out for the best. Maybe Courfeyrac could find someone who would take care of him after Grantaire died.

#

So Monday night found he and Courfeyrac arriving at the Musain at exactly 8:30 and sliding into the backroom the meeting was held in just as the blond alpha Courfeyrac had met was calling everyone to order.

Blue eyes looked at him in suspicion even as the alpha nodded welcome to Courfeyrac. Guess this Enjolras hadn’t really expected Courfeyrac to bring a friend. Was that because he was suspicious of who he was to Courfeyrac, a reasonable concern considering scent-masking shampoo was usually given to prostitutes by their pimps to hide their business from the authorities, or did Enjolras just not want his path to Courfeyrac blocked.

Of course, as the meeting progressed, he realized that these Les Amis de l’ABC were very sincere in their beliefs and were working towards changing the system. And he had to admit that _some_ of their ideas had _some_ merit. That didn’t mean they weren’t horribly naïve about the harsh reality that faced omegas who didn’t live up to societal ideas.

“Society holds omegas up to impossible standards,” Enjolras was saying. “If they are not chaste until their first heat, a milestone some do not reach until their late twenties, they risk death because society tells alphas that so-called ‘defiled’ omegas are not fit to bond with. They _die_ because society thinks they are worthless.”

“And what’s the solution then?” Grantaire asked, no longer able to keep his silence and listen to a privileged alpha male speak of things he knew nothing about. Everyone looked at him in surprise. Enjolras shot him a challenging look. “You say that society does not hold betas and alphas to the level of chastity as omegas, and that’s true, but doesn’t biology give us the answer to that? You can’t tell by the scent of an alpha or beta whether or not they’re a virgin. Are you asking society to just ignore what their basic instincts tell them?”

“We are more than just instincts,” the alpha argued back. “We are not animals. We can rise above our baser natures and treat each person as a worthy individual who is allowed to make their own choices. The wrongs in our society go far beyond biology. Even if we could smell a chaste alpha from an unchaste one, society wouldn’t care. There are alphas who take omegas to bed before their heat with no intention to bond with them. We know this because they brag about it to anyone who cares to listen. The authorities know it happens, but there is no law against it, even though they are practically handing a death sentence to the omega.”

“Are you saying the omega in that situation had no choice?” he asked. “Isn’t that view merely a nicer version of the hierarchal society that says that omegas can’t be allowed to live their own lives because they might make the wrong choices?”

“Someone may choose to kill themselves, but we still have laws against assisted suicide,” Enjolras pointed out.

“So you say that omegas having sex before bonding is similar to them committing suicide? Then why shouldn’t we wish to stop that? And aren’t societal sanctions the best way to do so?”

“I’m saying that both sides of the picture are wrong!” he cried, fire burning in his eyes. “Omegas should be free to choose to live however they want and omegas who choose to have sex before bonding should not be punished by death.”

“Ah, but who would want to bond with an impure omega?” Grantaire asked mockingly. “Would you do so, mighty Apollo?”

“If I loved them,” he answered readily.

Grantaire chuckled darkly. “Love. That’s a convenient excuse for any alpha to not bond with such an omega. But love isn’t necessarily needed for a bond to form.”

“The possibility of love is,” Enjolras shot back. “A metaphysical connection must exist between two people.”

“And you’re saying that connection can exist even between people who’ve never met?” he asked incredulously. “Because I’m sure you’re aware of the rare occasions where well-meaning alphas seeking to ease the omega’s pain during heat have actually come out the other side bonded to them.”

“You’re confusing the issue,” Enjolras said dismissively. “The issue is not how the bond is formed, but why alphas shun omegas who have had sex before bonding.”

“That’s quite a mouthful to say. Just call them defiled omegas. It’s much simpler,” Grantaire teased

 “I will not!” Enjolras exclaimed. “I will not call them that because it implies that they are tainted and wrong. The only reason alphas do not approached such omegas is because of the stigma society puts on them by calling them ‘defiled.’ Take away that stigma, and their lives could be saved! Now if we are quite done arguing the worthiness of the cause, perhaps we could move on with the meeting and discuss how we can _advance_ the cause.”

Grantaire gave the blond alpha a sardonic nod and smirked to himself. His self-satisfaction, though, was cut short as he caught a glimpse of Courfeyrac’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the other omega, knowing what was said between him and Enjolras probably hit home pretty hard with him.

Courfeyrac shook his head though. “Don’t be,” he whispered back fiercely. “God, Grantaire that was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever _seen_. It hurts, yes, but we’ve got to be able to confront the truth of the world in order to change it. And what you and Enjolras just did? That is why I know we’ll succeed.”

He sat quietly in his chair for the rest of the meeting, contemplating Courfeyrac’s words. He didn’t believe that the world would change just because they wanted it to. But looking at the passionate alpha at the front of the room and all the equally passionate people hanging onto his every word, for the first time, he believed that there was some good in the world.

#

Courfeyrac was a little apprehensive after the meeting when Enjolras made a beeline for their table. Before he could make it, though, a very large alpha sank down in the seat next to Grantaire and grinned.

“I like you,” he said without preamble. “Bahorel.”

“Grantaire,” the disguised omega returned steadily. “Good to know I haven’t alienated everyone here.”

Courfeyrac wasn’t sure how Grantaire was keeping so calm. The omega in him was shaking in trepidation at being so near such a hulking alpha.

Bahorel gave a booming laugh as a smaller figure joined him at the table.

The smaller man, obviously an omega Courfeyrac realized with a start, smiled at both of them. “I think you’re just what Enjolras needs to keep him on his toes,” he said with a smile. “I’m Jean Prouvaire, but please, call me Jehan.”

“Are you a fully integrated group then?” Courfeyrac asked, burning with curiosity about these people.

“Everyone else is either an alpha or beta, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jehan responded with a grin. “But we welcome everyone. Most omegas are too scared to stand up for their rights though.”

“With good reason,” Bahorel was quick to defend, glancing down at the small omega. It didn’t take a genius to know that they were an item. Courfeyrac smiled at them. It was always nice to see a loving relationship between an alpha and omega, even if he had no hope of ever being part of one.

“Come to tell me to leave and never return, oh fearless leader?” Grantaire asked as Enjolras finally made it to their table.

“Come to find out who you are,” he corrected, sitting down as well. “I wasn’t aware that Courfeyrac was bringing a friend.”

“Well I couldn’t very well let my oldest and dearest friend go out and meet a bunch of strangers without tagging along for protection, could I?” he asked.

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes at that. “More likely afraid I would find much more interesting people to hang about with and ditch you.”

“You wound me,” he replied before turning back to Enjolras. “The name is Grantaire.”

“Please to meet you,” the blond replied. “Now to what you were saying about the nature of bonds…”

Courfeyrac tuned out the rest of the conversation between them as a bespectacled alpha sat down in the last chair at their table and smiled at him.

“It seems like your friend has made quite the impression with Enjolras,” he commented, glancing over to where Enjolras and Grantaire were now in a heated debate over the exact nature of the metaphysical bond between mates.

Courfeyrac shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Grantaire like this. Though, to be fair, we don’t get out much.”

“Well we are certainly glad you did tonight. I’m Combeferre, by the way,” he introduced himself with a warm smile.

“Courfeyrac,” he returned, unable to not notice how the green eyes behind the glasses sparkled in the dim lighting.

“I hope the two of you will come back. If nothing else, it’ll give Enjolras something to rant about that isn’t social injustice,” Combeferre said lightly.

Courfeyrac laughed. “I don’t think you could keep us away if you tried.”

Tbc…


	3. Chapter Three

Considering the fact that their discussion after the meeting had developed rather quickly into an argument that Enjolras’ friend Combeferre had to step in to mediate, Grantaire did not expect to get a call from him a couple days later asking him out to lunch.

Mostly because Grantaire did not recall giving anyone at the meeting his number, let alone the golden god he had stayed up all night sketching afterwards.

“How did you get this number?” he asked groggily as he shook of his sleep and his mouth caught up with his brain. “And why are you calling at this god-awful hour?”

“It’s 10:30,” Enjolras replied in an unimpressed tone. “And Courfeyrac gave me your number.”

Of course he did, Grantaire thought with a roll of his eyes. “And why does the sun god request an audience with me, a mere mortal?”

“Do not deitize me,” Enjolras snapped. Grantaire could picture the spark of irritation in his eyes and was sorry he wasn’t there to witness it. “You told me the other night that I don’t have an adequate understanding of omegas because I don’t have any firsthand experience,” he continued more calmly. “Well, you do, and I was hoping you could share it with me.”

A shot of fear went through him before he realized that Enjolras was speaking about his experience with Courfeyrac. “If you want to talk about Courfeyrac, I’m not going to do that behind his back,” he said, insulted that Enjolras would even suggest such a thing.

“No, of course not!” he protested quickly. “I spoke with Courfeyrac and he said that you were able to help him hide because you experience with other omegas in hiding. I just want general information. I would never ask you to break any confidences.”

Grantaire snorted to himself. Experience with other omegas indeed. That was an accurate yet extremely glossed over assessment of his past. Still, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to rile Enjolras up some more. And if what he had to say actually helped the alpha in his quest to change the world, that’d be a plus as well.

Which is how Grantaire ended up sitting opposite Enjolras in a small, out-of-the-way diner he was sure was chosen for discretion.

“Not really the type of place I had you pegged for,” he said easily after the waitress had taken their drink orders and left them with menus. “You look more five star than hole in the wall.”

Enjolras’ mouth twitched in annoyance but he otherwise made no reply to the comment. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. You are being a tremendous help to the cause.”

Grantaire waved that away. “I’m not doing it for the cause. The cause is geared towards getting the majority of society to completely change the way they think. I don’t believe that can ever happen.”

“Not the majority of society,” Enjolras countered. “Just the alphas. The betas have nothing against omega rights and omegas should definitely be for it. And if you don’t believe in the cause, why bother?”

“That’s a pretty big assumption about betas and omegas,” he answered, ignoring the question because he wasn’t quite sure he knew the answer. “I’m sure there are plenty of betas out there who like their place in the pecking order and would like to keep it. And there are some omegas out there who hold the belief that the current societal structure is the way nature or God or whatever intended it to be. You’re working against more than a few bigoted alphas who prefer their omegas to submit to them entirely.”

“I’m not a complete idiot,” Enjolras said. “I am perfectly aware of what we are going up against. I’d like your help better understanding the people we are trying to help.”

The waitress chose that moment to come back for their orders. After she left, Enjolras looked at him expectantly.

Grantaire sighed and pursed his lips, wondering where to begin. “You know Courfeyrac wasn’t the first I got into hiding,” he said finally, figuring it wasn’t really a lie if he just neglected to say that the other one he got into hiding was himself. What you need to understand is that most omegas who go into hiding are defiled.”

He held up a hand to stop Enjolras protest. “I know you don’t like that word, but describing it any other way gets a bit wordy after a while,” he said with a smirk before growing serious once more. “Besides, most defiled omegas think of themselves as that way. Dirty, tainted, not worthy.”

He swallowed against the emotion in his throat, not wanting Enjolras to see how talking about affected him. He was only supposed to be a third-party _beta_ observer.

But he couldn’t overlook the truth in his words. He was dirty. Sure he had elected to throw himself out rather than be hauled out the back when he was finished, but that didn’t make him any less of a piece of trash. His parents had known that from the start. It was why they had sold him to the Thenardiers when he was five.

It was really just his big fuck you to all of them that he had decided to live what little life he had left as well as he could.

Well, that, and he had to look after Courfeyrac.

“But they’re _not_ ,” Enjolras said, cutting through his thoughts.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “It’s not about what _you_ think, it’s about what _they_ think. Look, some were defiled by choice, and they’re the ones who are usually able to cope with their situation the best.” His mind flashed to Courfeyrac.

“That seems a little backwards,” he said with a confused frown.

“Yeah, but you see, they can own their situation, make it a choice they made, a mistake maybe, but they’re able to realize that society should not levy a death sentence on them for that. And sometimes it’s not even a mistake. Sometimes it’s an omega who had sex with their spouse but something happened to them before they reached their first heat, something _expected_ of them by society even.”

“But shouldn’t those who were forced be able to see that society is punishing them for something beyond their control? Why would they internalize that stigma?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire thought back to all the omegas who had sought out a place at the Thenardiers’ brothel, being a better option than trying to make it on their own on the streets and risking falling into the hands of a more brutal pimp. Better the devil you choose than the one lurking in the dark. They were usually victims of rape, some from boyfriends, some from strangers, some from relatives.

All blaming themselves.

“The mind is a funny thing after a traumatic experience,” he replied with a shrug. “They might know they were raped, but they all think there was something they could have done that they didn’t do, or that they shouldn’t have done but they did.”

“But you’ve helped them?” Enjolras asked, a light of respect in his eyes that Grantaire knew he didn’t deserve.

“I’ve helped one or two here and there,” he grumbled, again, not technically lying. “But I’ve never been in the position to do more than that. I’ve helped Courfeyrac the most, if hiding helps him at all.”

“You’ve helped him live his life,” the blond pointed out.

“You don’t understand, Enjolras,” he said softly with a self-deprecating smile. “Hiding is a death sentence. Yeah, you can live your life without interference for a little while, but as soon as your heat hits, that’s it. You can’t attract an alpha to bond with if you’re hiding as a beta.”

“Then why do it at all?”

That was a good question. One he had to pause to think about for a moment.

“Perhaps,” he said slowly. “Perhaps living a short full life is better than living a long half one, or more realistically, than living a shitty short life.”

Enjolras was quiet for a few moments, long enough for the waitress to return with their food. Finally, he looked up at Grantaire with passionate fire burning in his blue eyes.

“I am going to stop this, Grantaire,” he promised. “I am going to put an end to this world where omegas have to choose from such suboptimal choices. We are going to bring about a world where omegas can live their lives freely without hiding and where they can choose to do whatever they please sexually without the fear of death hanging over their heads. I am going to stop this.”

And in that moment, Grantaire believed him, and he knew that he would follow this man to the edge of the universe and back if he asked him.

That’s when he knew he was completely screwed.

#

Courfeyrac loved his part-time job at the café, he really did. He loved talking to new people, and his job as a waiter allowed him the opportunity to chat with new people as well as become familiar with the regulars. The disguised omega was anything but a wallflower, but since he and Grantaire kept to themselves by necessity, until recently that is, the job at the café gave him an outlet for his social energy.

Be that as it was, he wouldn’t trade his full-time job at the library branch near their apartment for the world.

It wasn’t the most frequented branch, mostly because of its location in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the city. People living there rarely had the free time to pick up a book to read, and if they did they certainly didn’t have time to take to explore all the books the library had to offer, usually sticking to the bestsellers that were usually in high demand. Nevertheless, it was a well-stocked library, one that he and Grantaire had spent hours and hours in over the past years.

Omegas weren’t given formal education. Hell, Grantaire hadn’t even been able to _read_ when Courfeyrac met him, though he sure as hell hadn’t taken the man long to pick it up. The omega was a freakin’ _genius_ if anyone bothered to ask Courfeyrac for his opinion, an opinion Grantaire always said he could shove up his ass, but it was still true.

And after Courfeyrac had taught Grantaire how to read, they both set about learning as much as they could, reading just about anything they could get their hands on. With both of them working, they were able to scrape by with a job and a half each in their tiny two bedroom. That left them plenty of time to reading as much as they’d like.

When a position had opened as a library assistant had opened, the librarian had told them both about it straight away, leaving it to them to decide who should take it. Grantaire had urged him to do it, reasoning that his bartending job brought in the most money anyway and kept him up too late to come into the library so early.

Which was bullshit, but Courfeyrac accepted it without comment, knowing arguing would do no good. He made up for it by bringing home lots of books that he thought Grantaire would like.

The best part about the job, though, was that, because they had few visitors, he was able to spend a lot of his time working reading.

Which was why he was buried behind a thick book on World War II when the low “excuse me” called him from his book.

He lowered his book and was shocked to see Combeferre standing before his desk. The alpha was clearly surprised to see him as well.

“Courfeyrac,” he nodded in greeting, a smile blooming on his face. His extremely handsome face.

No, he admonished himself. Stop that.

“I didn’t realize you worked here,” Combeferre continued.

“Every day from eight til five,” he replied cheerily, not saying that he had begged to work more hours but the library had been unable to afford to pay him overtime. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m actually hunting down a book. The copy in the main branch are checked out, but the online system said that your copy was due today. I was hoping it had been returned?”

And dammit, if that hopeful look make Courfeyrac loathe to disappoint him. “Well, what’s the book?”

As Combeferre rattled off the title and author, Courfeyrac grinned in triumphant. “Considering I checked that out, I can assure it was returned today. Hold on,” he twisted around in his chair and looked at the line of books waiting to be shelved. “Aha!” he said, grabbing the title Combeferre was after and twisted back around to hand it to him triumphantly.

“Is there a reason you’re checking out medical texts on sexual physiology?” Combeferre asked with a bemused smile.

There most certainly was, but Courfeyrac didn’t want to tell him that he was trying to understand the heat process more so that he could better understand it when it happened to him or Grantaire. Instead, he replied with a lazy shrug, “In light of attending your meetings, I decided to learn more about the biology behind the social structure. How about you? What’s your reason?”

“Research project for medical school I’m afraid,” he replied with a wry smirk. “Not nearly as noble a reason, I’m afraid. Most of my research can be done at the med school library, but I remember reading a few quotes in the book that I would like to include. So are you coming to the meeting tonight?”

“Well I did say you couldn’t keep me away if you tried,” he replied with a sly grin.

The alpha chuckled. “Yes, you did, so I expect to see you there on time tonight.”

“We weren’t _late_ last time,” he pointed out with a pout. “Enjolras was just calling the meeting to order.”

“You definitely weren’t on time,” he quipped back.

“Well I am certain we weren’t early,” Courfeyrac reasoned with a laugh. “If we weren’t late or on time either, we must not have even been there. I must have hallucinated the entire thing.”

“If you’re having such vivid hallucinations, perhaps you should see a doctor,” Combeferre advised.

“You’re a med student,” he replied with an appraising glance. “You could examine me.”

“Yes, but how can you be sure that I am not a hallucination as well?” he asked with a grin.

“Well, I definitely know Grantaire saw you if the sketches from that night are anything to go on, so either you’re real or we’re both hallucinating the same tall, dark, and handsome med student. Occam’s razor would suggest that you are not a hallucination.”

Combeferre blushed at the handsome comment, which only further endeared him to Courfeyrac. The alpha, in an attempt to change the subject, latched onto the other part of the sentence. “Grantaire’s an artist?”

Courfeyrac snorted. “Grantaire is whatever Grantaire wants to be. He’s a gifted artist, a talented musician, and not a bad dancer, though he rarely displays that particular talent. The man is a creative genius, though don’t tell him that. He’ll just deny it.”

“You two sound really close,” he commented.

“He’s the only family I have,” he replied with a fond smile.

Combeferre’s eyebrow furrowed. “Are you and he…?”

Courfeyrac laughed at that impossibility, though of course Combeferre wouldn’t see two _betas_ being together as an impossibility. “No. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a big brother, though that can get a bit old at times with him constantly looking out for me.”

Combeferre smiled. “Still, it’s still nice to have someone looking out for you.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I better go and let you get back to work. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said with a wink.

Combeferre gave him one last smile before leaving with his book.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later, when he was still staring after the alpha, that he began to think he might be in trouble.

Tbc…


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is so long overdue. I've had a hell of a two weeks. I'm currently working on the next chapter of Little White Lies. Hopefully it will be out soon.

It had been about a month since Courfeyrac had met Enjolras and dragged Grantaire to that first meeting at the Musain, but Courfeyrac felt as if he had known the Les Amis forever. Perhaps it was mostly due to the fact that he had allowed himself very little social interaction outside of Grantaire for five years, but he preferred to believe that the Les Amis were the family that they had never had and had always deserved.

Grantaire would probably call him an idealistic idiot for that, but even the cynic could not deny that he himself had grown close to their new group of friends faster than he had ever imagined possible.

Case in point, he already trusted them enough to allow Courfeyrac to attend a meeting on his own.

Well, perhaps allow was the wrong word, Courfeyrac mused as he approached the Musain’s door. Grantaire never tried to stop Courfeyrac from leading his own life. He was just a little too protective sometimes. Considering how they met, that probably was to be expected.

He paused before he entered the Musain as he felt the strange sensation of someone watching him. He turned quickly to survey the street behind him. There was a steady stream of traffic on both sides of the street, it being a fairly busy Friday night, but Courfeyrac could see no one paying any special attention to him. Shrugging off the feeling, he entered the Musain and grinned as saw Combeferre sitting alone in their usual area and frowning at the laptop in front of him.

“Good evening!” he exclaimed cheerfully, throwing himself down in the seat next to the alpha and resisting the temptation to pull it closer. The initial attraction he had felt towards the man had grown with each encounter he had with him, and he knew that he was just setting himself up for heartbreak if he allowed it to continue. Combeferre was a good friend, and he could never be anything more.

Besides, he thought Courfeyrac was a beta.

But it was hard to remember to stop feeling when Combeferre turned to him and flashed that gentle smile his way. “Hello,” he greeted. “You’re early today.”

Courfeyrac shrugged. “I just got off of work at the library and didn’t see a reason to go all the way home only to turn around again. What are you working on?”

“A pamphlet about omega life expectancies Enjolras wants to pass out at the rally next month,” he replied, frowning back at the screen. “I’ve managed to present the information the way I want it, but there’s still something missing.”

“May I?” Courfeyrac asked, gesturing towards the laptop.

“Please,” he said, angling the screen so that Courfeyrac had a better view.

He scooted his chair closer to the laptop, and Combeferre, but he was trying very hard to ignore that enticing fact, and read over the pamphlet, quashing the sick feeling as he glanced at the statistics showing how many omegas died during their first heat.

“It’s too logical,” he said finally, shaking his head. “You’re not going to get people to care using numbers. You have to play on their emotions. Here, let me…”

He reorganized the text so that there was space before and after the facts and figures Combeferre had included and began typing. The words came easily once he started.  He was almost finished when he felt the sensation of being watched again.

He looked up and his breath caught his throat as his eyes met Combeferre, who was watching him with a fond smile on his face.

Before either of them was able to say anything, though, Enjolras interrupted them by dropping his bag on table and sitting down on the other side of Combeferre. “Have you seen the news?” he asked, excitement shining in his blue eyes.

“No?” Combeferre said, turning towards him in askance and leaning back slightly from Courfeyrac, who had not realized how close their faces had been.

“Senator Lamarque’s bill passed in the Senate.”

“But the Senate is where we were sure it would stall!” Combeferre exclaimed in amazement.

“We were able to get a majority. And once it gets to the House, Congressman Valjean should have no problem pushing it through,” Enjolras continued fervently.

“Care to share with the new guy?” Courfeyrac asked, causing them both to look at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Courf,” Combeferre said finally, smiling sheepishly. “I forget you haven’t been with us very long.”

“Lamarque introduced a bill in the Senate a while back that would stop employers from discriminating against omegas,” Enjolras explained. “We were sure that it would be blocked in the Senate. We have enough support in the House, though, so now that it’s passed the Senate, it’s very likely to become law.”

Courfeyrac gasped. “But that would mean that omegas…”

“Could have lives of their own without hiding or having to depend on other people,” Enjolras finished, looking at him meaningfully before blinking and looking around. “Where’s Grantaire?”

“Someone rented the bar he works at out for the night and hired him to bartend,” Courfeyrac explained with a shrug. “He sends his apologies.”

Enjolras frowned at the answer and looked a little put out. Courfeyrac bit back a smile at his friend’s expression and shared a meaningful look with Combeferre. He may not have known Enjolras for as long as Combeferre, but it was rather obvious that he was quite taken with Courfeyrac’s roommate. With all the looks he threw Grantaire’s way and the way he always made a beeline for the disguised omega at the end of the meetings, it was clear to everyone but the two in question that something was brewing between them.

Courfeyrac only hoped that Grantaire wouldn’t push Enjolras away because of his own lack of self-worth. He was also slightly worried how the alpha would take Grantaire’s continuing deception.

The other Les Amis started trickling in after that, and soon the meeting was in full swing. And if Enjolras’ eyes drifted to the seat next to Courfeyrac that Grantaire normally took, well, no one felt the need to mention it.

Of course, with the bill’s passage in the Senate, the meeting was more of a celebration than anything else. Sensing further progress would not be made that night, Enjolras adjourned the meeting early, and took counsel with Combeferre on what their next actions would be. Well, Combeferre and Courfeyrac, though Courfeyrac had absolutely no idea why he was being included in the conversation.

Truth be told, he could barely concentrate on the conversation to add the few remarks he did make. It was just beginning to sink in what this new bill would mean for him and Grantaire. They wouldn’t have to hide anymore. He wasn’t completely sure how he felt about that.

Sure, it would be great to be who he was, to not suppress himself and try to squeeze himself into the role of a beta. To be able to stand proud as an omega and not hide behind hormone shampoo like a coward.

But he couldn’t deny that he _was_ afraid. Even if this new law made it illegal to discriminate against omegas in the workforce, there would be those that wouldn’t look to kindly upon him inserting himself there. And he had spent five years disguised as a beta, not having to worry about leering alphas looking at him like a piece of meat.

He remembered those looks from when he was younger. Alphas in his parents’ circle thought omegas were good only for looking pretty, fucking, and breeding. He had hated it. It was no wonder he fell for the first alpha that looked at him like a person rather than an omega.

Of course that was all just a fucking act that he fell for like a pathetic fool.

He didn’t want to go back to that.

“Courfeyrac, are you alright?” Combeferre’s quiet voice broke through his thoughts.

He looked up blankly at the alphas looking at him in concern before smiling softly and shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he said, standing up. “Just tired. I’m going to grab something caffeinated from the bar.”

The front room of the Musain was more crowded than usual, and he leaned patiently against the bar as he waited for the bartender to notice him. He wasn’t there long before Jehan joined him.

“Where’s Bahorel?” he asked, looking around automatically after the omega had greeted him with a smile.

Jehan looked at him in amusement. “We aren’t attached at the hip you know.”

“I know, it’s just…” He looked around at the swell of people surrounding them. As an omega, they made him nervous, even though none of them could ever guess he wasn’t a beta. He worried about Jehan being surrounded by them without an alpha around to protect him.

Jehan was glaring at him now. He went over what he had just said and realized how it must have sounded to the other omega. “What I meant—” he tried to backtrack but Jehan cut him off.

“What you meant was that the poor, defenseless omega shouldn’t be about on his own!” he snapped, looking more dangerous than Courfeyrac thought possible. “I have been fighting against such ignorant, chauvinistic ideas my entire life, and I am extremely disappointed that I’m hearing them from someone I had _thought_ was a friend.”

Courfeyrac caught his arm as he made to stalk away, no doubt to tell all the Les Amis what a terrible person he was. “Jehan, _please_ let me explain,” he begged.

The other omega gave him a cold look before nodding once. “Okay, explain,” he said curtly, raising an eyebrow.

Courfeyrac bit his lip and looked around nervously. “Not here.”

Jehan rolled his eyes. “I thought I already said—”

“That’s not why,” he said, shaking his head. “I just… don’t want anyone to overhear.”

He looked at him suspiciously before nodding his assent and following Courfeyrac outside and into the alley between the Musain and the building next door.

“You’re not really doing yourself any favors by leading me to secluded alleys, you know,” Jehan commented, eyes still hard as stone.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and opened them again to see Jehan looking at him expectantly. “Look, I’m not some bigoted asshole, I promise. I think omegas should have every single right that alphas and betas do. I just don’t… trust alphas around omegas.”

“So you’re biased against alphas?” Jehan said blandly. “You know, that’s not really any better, even if you aren’t biased against me personally. And how can you be biased against alphas when Combeferre and Enjolras have been so good to you.”

“It’s not bias!” he protested. “It’s not that I think they’re all bad, but you cannot blame me for being a little apprehensive around them!”

Jehan narrowed his eyes. “Why are _you_ apprehensive around them?”

Courfeyrac froze, silently cursing himself for letting his mouth run away from him.

His silence was more than telling and Jehan’s eyes widened in realization. “You’re not a beta, are you?” Tears filled his eyes as he shook his head slowly. “Oh, honey,” Jehan whispered as he wrapped his arms around him. “It’s alright. Everything’s alright.”

“I’m scared, Jehan,” he admitted as he buried his face in the other omega’s neck. “I’m so happy this bill is being pushed through but I am so scared to come out of hiding. I don’t want to go back to being less than a person.”

“Hey,” Jehan said, pulling back and forcing Courfeyrac to look him in the eye. “Do you really thing that any of us would treat you as less of a person? Would Enjolras? Would _Combeferre_?”

Courfeyrac thought a moment before shaking his head. He was being ridiculous. Hell, Enjolras already knew and treated him with the same respect and courtesy that he gave everyone else. And Combeferre…

Well, he didn’t really want to think about what Combeferre would say if he found out, mostly because he was afraid that it _wouldn’t_ change anything for the alpha.

“I’m assuming Grantaire knows?” Jehan asked. He nodded. “And is he…?”

Panic filled him at the question. He didn’t want to lie to Jehan, but he definitely didn’t want to betray Grantaire’s trust. “His situation isn’t like mine,” he settled for instead, which wasn’t a lie but not really what Jehan was asking either.

He could see that Jehan didn’t really believe him but was willing to let it go. “You need to tell the others,” he said instead.

“Enjolras already knows.”

“And Combeferre?”

He shook his head. “Just Enjolras.”

“And what’s your plan for when your heat comes?” Jehan asked with a frown. “Are you just going to lay down and die?”

“That’s really been the only option for me for a long time,” Courfeyrac admitted sadly.

“That’s _not_ the only option!” Jehan hissed. “If you think we’re all just going to sit back and let you _die_ …”

“You don’t understand,” he said, turning away from the other omega. “How could you? You aren’t… defiled… You don’t know what it’s like. Omegas like me don’t have happily ever afters.”

“You can’t have that type of mentality,” Jehan said softly with a pleading note to his voice. “That’s what we’re fighting against.”

“And I’m fighting for the next omega like me.”

“I’m not going to let you do this,” Jehan said firmly, causing Courfeyrac to look at him in shock. He thought if any of the Amis would understand, it would be the other omega. “I’ll keep your secret if you’d like, but when you go into heat, you better believe I will tell them to get one of them to save your life.”

Courfeyrac looked at him stupidly for a moment before getting angry. “You’d _force_ one of them to bond with me?”

Jehan rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have to. You think any of them wouldn’t volunteer? Courf, you’re one of us now. You’re _family_. We all love you and Grantaire. We’re not going to let anything happen to you if we can help it.”

Courfeyrac’s anger left him. “The bond isn’t supposed to be a familial one.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Jehan said with a smile. “Now are you going to tell them?”

“I have to discuss it with Grantaire first,” he said, both because he didn’t want to do anything without letting the other omega know and also because he wanted more time to prepare himself for what could happen.

“Just… think about it, okay?”

He nodded. He didn’t think he’d do anything _but_ think about it.

#

Grantaire sighed in relief as he walked out of the bar after his shift. He hated his job as a bartender, really. Don’t get him wrong, the tips made the pay great, but he didn’t like the feeling of being trapped in a crowd of people. True, the bar itself put a barrier between him and the crowd, which made things more bearable, but only slightly.

He wasn’t like Courfeyrac, who was nervous around crowds because his parents had kept him isolated from the majority of people. No, he didn’t like the _particular_ types of crowds that hung around in the seedy bar he worked in. They reminded him far too much of the people who used to frequent the Thenardiers’ brothel.

And he absolutely loathed alcohol.

The Thenardiers had fed all their omegas alcohol from a young age. Alcohol acted as a cheap method of sedation for the younger omegas who would cry and fight the johns who were paying the Thenardiers for the pleasure of their company. Apparently it was off-putting for whores to cry and scream for help, so the Thenardiers fed them alcohol to shut them up.

It wasn’t any wonder that Grantaire had escaped addicted, though how he could both crave and loath the feeling alcohol gave him, he would never know. It was with great pains that he finally kicked the addiction, and a lot of that was probably thanks to Courfeyrac.

Breaking out of this thoughts, he turned towards the street that would lead to his apartment only to stop short at the sight in front of him.

“Enjolras? What are you doing in this part of town?”

The blond alpha smiled at him sheepishly. “I was actually coming to see you, though you can’t really lecture me for being in this part of town when _you_ work here.”

“I also _live_ here,” he shot back before growing concerned as the alpha’s words caught up to him. “Wait, you came here to see me? What’s happened? Is Courfeyrac okay?”

“Everything is fine. I just wanted to… see you,” Enjolras said, looking confused at himself. “I mean, we received some big news today and I wanted to hear your opinion on it.”

He turned towards the direction of his apartment and waited for the other man to fall into step beside him. “If you’re talking about the omega discrimination bill, I heard about it,” he said finally, amazed at how comfortable he felt with the alpha beside him.

He had never actually felt comfortable with an alpha before, unless you counted Eponine, and he wasn’t so much comfortable with Eponine as he was just sure that she couldn’t be bothered enough to hurt him.

“And?” Enjolras prompted, obviously wanted his opinion on the subject.

Which was another novelty for Grantaire. The only one who had ever cared for what opinion was before was Courfeyrac. Now, this intelligent, beautiful alpha was asking Grantaire for _his_ opinion, even knowing that it was very likely to be something contrary to what Enjolras wanted to hear. If it were anyone else, Grantaire would be wondering what his motive was.

However, it was Enjolras, and even if he did have an ulterior motive, it wouldn’t matter because Grantaire would do nearly anything the alpha asked anyway.

If he gave it any real thought to his feeling for Enjolras, he’d realize how much trouble he was in, which is why he purposefully did _not_ give it any thought.

“There will be backlash,” Grantaire warned. “The law might say that employers can’t _not_ hire omegas, but some of the omegas that step forward will be treated so badly that they won’t _want_ to work.”

“But there will be some who stick it out,” Enjolras argued. “Some who stand up for themselves and for their rights. And eventually, society will _have_ to accept them, just as they accepted female alphas and betas seventy years ago.”

“But how much will they have to suffer in the meantime?”

Enjolras sighed. “I don’t want them to suffer, but changing the way society thinks will be an uphill battle. Omegas are suffering right now. At least this gives them a chance.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Grantaire said, stopping and turning to look at him. “I know I give you a hard time about the cause. I admire what you’re doing, Enjolras, I really do. I just… can’t see society the way you do. I can’t see _people_ the way you do. I’ve seen too many people do too many bad things to have too much hope for them.”

Enjolras smiled softly. “Don’t apologize. I don’t think you realize how big a help you’ve been to the cause. You and Courfeyrac both,” he said. “Combeferre and me… we think to logically. And you’re right, we haven’t seen the truly ugly side of people like you two have. But you’re still fighting. You still know that the society we live in is broken, and you want to see it fixed. And you’ve opened my eyes to places where it is broken that I would have never looked otherwise. I know you don’t believe the world can be changed, but you obviously don’t think this is all futile or else you wouldn’t stick around.”

“I stick around for Courfeyrac,” he said dismissively, not meeting his eyes.

“And I’m sure Courfeyrac is one of the reasons you’d like to see society changed,” Enjolras added.

Grantaire sighed. “I worry about him,” he confessed. “Enjolras, I want you to promise me something.”

“Anything,” came the immediate answer.

“Promise me that if something ever happens to me, you’ll look after Courfeyrac.”

“Nothing is going to—”

“You don’t know that,” Grantaire interrupted, knowing that something _was_ going to happen to him and there was nothing that either of them could do to stop it. “Just, please, promise me.”

Enjolras looked at him for a moment before nodding seriously. “I promise.”

He bit his lip and looked down for a moment, knowing this next request would be hard for him to ask, and probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing to ask, but he had to. For Courfeyrac.

“And if… when… his heat hits,” he swallowed thickly, “I would appreciate it if you would at least _consider_ bonding with him if you can.”

The thought of Enjolras bonding with anyone made him feel ill, but he had to ask. Courfeyrac deserved to live.

“Grantaire…” Enjolras said after a long pause. “I… am not sure I would be the best candidate, but I promise you that I _will_ consider it. And if _I_ cannot, I will find someone who _can_.”

Grantaire nodded. That was really the best he could hope for. “Thank you.”

They continued walking after that, parting ways at the next crossroads, with Enjolras headed to the more affluent part of town and Grantaire plodding on towards the apartment he shared with Courfeyrac, feeling more exhausted than he had in a very long time.

Tbc…


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but here's a nice long chapter to apologize. Let me know what you think :)

“I want to tell all our friends the truth,” he said in a rush as soon as Grantaire walked through the door, not wanting to lose his nerve. He knew Grantaire was likely to fight him about this, and if he waited any longer, he might chicken out just to avoid adding one more thing for Grantaire to worry about, but he couldn’t do that.

Not this time. This was too important. He had been thinking about it all night while waiting for Grantaire to come home, and he had realized that he couldn’t live this way anymore.

He was still terrified. He had lived as a beta for so long that he didn’t know if he could go back to being treated like an omega. But his friends weren’t the people he grew up around. He had almost convinced himself that they wouldn’t treat him any differently when they found out.

And he had slowly realized that he wanted to be himself, even if it was only in a limited setting.

“Not about you,” he assured when Grantaire froze and turned terrified eyes towards him. He understood the fear. Hell, he was afraid too. But he had to do this. “Just about me.”

Grantaire narrowed his eyes. “Did Enjolras put you up to this?” he asked, a look of angry betrayal on his face. “He had no right to do that! Just because he needs omegas now to stand on the front line doesn’t mean he has a right to ask you to give up your life!”

“I’m not giving up my life!” Courfeyrac argued in exasperation. “I just want to be honest with our friends. And yes, when Lamarque’s bill becomes law and goes into effect, maybe I will stop hiding completely. But none of this has anything to do with Enjolras. Enjolras knows nothing about this. You know he’d never try to convince anyone to do something they didn’t want to, and he definitely wouldn’t try to force me into anything, if only because he’d never want to upset you.”

He rolled his eyes at Grantaire’s now skeptical face and fell back on the couch with his arms folded in front of him. “Is it really so bad to just be honest with the people we love and who love us?” he asked sadly. “Don’t they deserve that? Don’t _we_ deserve it? ‘Taire, it’s _so_ _hard_ pretending to be a beta for me. There are days when I can barely stand the lunch crowd at the café because there are too many people, too many _alphas_ ,” he confessed, looking down in shame. “I can never decide whether I want them to acknowledge that I’m there or if I want to disappear entirely. All I know is that they’re there and I can’t stand it half the time. I’m not like you. This doesn’t come easy for me.”

“You think it’s easy for me?” Grantaire asked incredulously, sitting heavily down next to Courfeyrac. “Most nights I’m trapped behind a bar with a crowd all around me, mostly alphas and betas, and in every one of them I see the face of some fucking john from Patron-Minette. And every time I do, I want drink until I can’t remember anymore, but I know it’d do no good because it always comes back.”

His voice had softened near the end, and Courfeyrac scooted over to lean against him.

“I don’t want to die,” he admitted finally, a treacherous tear escaping from one eye. “I feel like we’ve finally found our true family and I have no time left with them.”

“You’re only twenty two,” Grantaire comforted, the weary sorrow lacing his voice making him less convincing. “You probably have a few more years to go. And maybe you’ll find someone to bond with before then.”

“I won’t if I stay hidden,” he pointed out, sitting up and staring at Grantaire seriously. He deflated quickly though and hung his head once more. “It doesn’t matter though. I’ve already signed my heart away to an alpha who deserves so much better than someone else’s sloppy seconds.”

“If that’s his opinion, he doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful as you anyway,” Grantaire said gently, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close once more.

“You and I both know that Combeferre would never think that, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. God if he knew I were a defiled omega…” Courfeyrac trailed off with a frown, his mind going back to his conversation with Jehan. “I can’t come out to them.”

Grantaire looked down at him with a quirked eyebrow. “You seemed to be all ready to about five minutes ago. Something about not wanting to live a lie?”

“’Taire, if they know, one of them will try to save me during my heat!” he exclaimed loudly before Grantaire covered his mouth with his hand.

“Shhh, not so loud,” he warned, lowering his hand and glancing nervously around. “You know these walls are thin. Do you want some of the low lives that live here knowing you’re an unbonded omega?”

Courfeyrac swallowed thickly, knowing the apprehension in Grantaire’s eyes came from years of experience that still left him crying out in terror some nights.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Grantaire nodded. “Now, I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to explain things more clearly,” he said slowly. “One minute you want to tell them, and the next you don’t. One minute you want to live, the next you’re upset that one of them might save your life. Courf, you can’t blame me if I’m a little confused.”

“I don’t want anyone to bond with me if they don’t want to,” he explained. “Jehan said that if everyone knew, they wouldn’t let me die, but I don’t want to chain someone to me for the rest of their lives! I don’t want to be someone’s _obligation_ ,” he spat the word with a sneer.

He had lived that life before. That’s all he was to his parents. Someone they had to feed and clothe until he was old enough to marry off. Good for nothing but the bride price they might get out of him.

And he had been a disappointment even in that. Instead of getting paid to get rid of him, his parents had to pay Felix Tholomyes quite a bit to take him, not caring or maybe even hoping that they were sending him to his death.

All he ever saw in his parents’ eyes when they look at him was resentment. He’d rather die than see that same resentment in any of his friends’ eyes. And to imagine Combeferre’s green eyes looking at him like that…

“They would do it because they love you,” Grantaire said softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. “God, Courfeyrac, don’t you know how much everyone loves you? All you do is give to the ones around you. You brighten everyone’s lives. You make Combeferre relax when he’s tense. You make Enjolras laugh even in his darkest mood. You make Bossuet feel lucky after some misfortune happens to him. You give Marius courage when he doubts himself. You—”

“That’s enough,” he cut him off, blushing self-consciously. “I get your point, but I’m not all that special.”

“I don’t think you do get it because you _are,_ ” he insisted. “Do you honestly think I’d be doing half as well as I am now if I hadn’t met you?”

“You’d probably be better off without me being a burden,” Courfeyrac replied with a self-deprecating smirk. He knew what Grantaire was trying to do, but it wasn’t going to work. He knew who had really helped who all these years.

“Wrong,” he said seriously. “I would be drunk all the time, hating myself with every bottle and wouldn’t be able to hold down a job. I might even have picked up a drug habit to go along with the drinking because the nightmares would have been too much to handle without you with me. And I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to afford it. So I would have to get cash from somewhere to fund my need for booze and drugs. Eventually I would have turned to moonlighting on the streets. It’s not like I hadn’t done it before,” he said, voice filled with self-disgust. “Hell, it’s what I was raised to be. After that, though, it wouldn’t have taken long for the Thenardiers to find me.”

“That wouldn’t have happened,” he said firmly, not liking the picture Grantaire’s words painted or the effect they seemed to have on him. None of it would have happened. He was sure of it. Grantaire was the strongest person he knew. He may have kept his alcohol problem, but he wouldn’t have turned to drugs. And he _definitely_ wouldn’t willingly become a prostitute, the very type of life he had run away to escape. “You wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“You have too much faith in me,” Grantaire replied with a scoff. “If I hadn’t had you to think of, I wouldn’t have cared so much what happened to me. You don’t tend to have much self-worth when you’re left at a brothel at age five because you manifested as a worthless omega. I may have left because I didn’t want to be the Thenardiers’ whore, but that doesn’t mean I was under any delusions about the only thing I was good for.”

“Stop it,” he demanded, glaring at Grantaire, his own fears all but forgotten. “You are good for _so much_ more. I would be _dead_ if it weren’t for you. _Promise_ me that you’ll take care of yourself even if something happens to me.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“You and I both know that something _will_ happen to me and neither of us have the power to save me now _promise me_ ,” he said in an unyielding voice.

“Fine,” he replied in exasperation. “I promise. But I’m older so I’m more likely to go into heat first. And after that happens, I want _you_ to promise _me_ that you _will_ let someone save you.”

“Only if you promise me that you’ll let someone save _you_ if they offer,” Courfeyrac shot back, mind immediately going to Enjolras and knowing that the blond would be willing to bond with Grantaire. Hell, Enjolras would be _more_ than willing if what he and Combeferre suspected was true. But Grantaire was self-sacrificing enough to push him away if he thought Enjolras deserved better.

 _Huh_ , he thought as he realized the other omega probably thought the same about him.

“I already gave my promise,” Grantaire said smugly. “It’s your turn.”

“I promise,” he said calmly, causing Grantaire to shoot him a suspicious look. “And I think I _will_ tell everyone the truth at the next meeting.”

Perhaps if Grantaire saw that their friends accepting him, maybe he’d find the courage to come clean as well, at least to Enjolras.

And if he didn’t, Courfeyrac would tell Enjolras himself if Grantaire’s heat came on first, or if by some miracle he lived through his own. He wasn’t going to let the man die for nothing.

#

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, surprise evident in his voice as he answered the phone. He didn’t sound displeased, though, so Grantaire decided his call was not necessarily unwelcomed. “The first time I called you, you said this was too early to be awake,” he continued, amusement now coloring his voice.

“I have another favor to ask,” he explained, cringing on the inside as he picked at blanket tangled around him. He hated asking for anything on top of the promise he had managed to extort from him last night, but he hoped Enjolras would indulge him once more.

“Anything,” was once again Enjolras’ immediate answer.

Grantaire sighed in exasperation. “You shouldn’t say that so certainly without knowing what I’m going to say. What if I asked something of you that you found morally repugnant?”

“You wouldn’t,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Your belief in people is going to get you in trouble one day,” he grumbled, flipping over on his back and closing his eyes.

“Probably, but that won’t stop me from believing,” Enjolras replied lightly. Grantaire opened his eyes and frowned. He had been expecting the alpha to snap at him for the comment, but obviously he was in a good mood this morning.

He was probably one of those weird morning people, Grantaire thought with a fond smile.

“Now, what did you want to ask me?”

“The meeting Monday night,” he said, knowing his request would probably be turned down regardless of Enjolras’ previous answer. Enjolras rarely veered off his agenda for the meetings, let alone do what he was about to ask, especially since he had moved the last meeting to Friday because the Musain had already booked the backroom for another party Thursday. And from what Courfeyrac told him, that meeting had been anything but productive after the bill’s passage in the Senate.

But Enjolras and Courfeyrac had become fast friends, so maybe he would do it, for Courfeyrac’s sake. “I was wondering if we could hold it in a place less… public than the Musain?”

“Why?” he asked, but with concern in his voice that threw Grantaire a bit. “Are you…?” he trailed off, seeming to not know how to articulate what he wanted to ask, but Grantaire answered anyway.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured him. “But Courf is planning to, um, come out to everyone, and I think he’d be more comfortable in a more… intimate setting. And I would feel better knowing that there is no risk of anyone else overhearing,” he said honestly.

“Okay then,” Enjolras said with finality. “We won’t have it at the Musain. I have to talk things over with Combeferre, but then I will text everyone the details.”

Grantaire was a bit surprised at how easy that was, but then realized that of course Enjolras would want to make this as easy as he could for Courfeyrac.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“You don’t have to thank me, ‘Taire,” Enjolras said. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Grantaire frowned at the words as he hung up. What did they mean?

Probably nothing, he decided. Nothing more than Enjolras would have said to any of his friends.

He thought nothing of it over the next two days, just sending another ‘thank you’ in reply to the mass text Enjolras sent the next day saying that the meeting would be held at the apartment he shared with Combeferre.

Courfeyrac had seemed relieved at the text, proving the Grantaire was right to ask Enjolras to move it.  He knew that Courfeyrac would be extra skittish around strange people before and after he told the Amis.

All he could do now was hope that they would accept Courfeyrac, but if they couldn’t, well, it’s not like people hadn’t disappointed them both before.

#

Courfeyrac swallowed down his nerves as he sat down next to Marius on the loveseat, avoiding Combeferre’s questioning eyes as forewent the seat left open on the couch between Enjolras and him. Grantaire shot him a concerned look as he sank down onto the couch instead, making Enjolras look pleased, though he was sure the other omega missed it.

“Any idea why Enjolras changed up the meeting?” Marius asked him with a puzzled smile. “He never does that unless he absolutely has to. He says it messes with productivity if we don’t keep our meetings constant.”

He shrugged, too anxious to actually say anything in reply, not that he had anything to say. He didn’t know why Enjolras had changed the meeting, though he suspected the grateful look Grantaire had shot him as he sat down probably had something to do with it.

The man in question cleared his throat, silencing everyone now that he and Grantaire, the last to arrive, were there. “I thought we’d have a more relaxed meeting tonight,” he announced, to the shock of most of the attendants. “We’ve all been working extremely hard, and we are already ahead in our work to ensure that, when Lamarque’s antidiscrimination bill becomes law, omegas who step forward will be as protected as we can made them. I thought we deserved a night to ourselves. Combeferre and I bought pizza for us all, it’s in the kitchen along with soda and beer for those who want.”

By now everyone but Combeferre was looking at Enjolras as if he had grown a second head. Enjolras usually frowned if they brought food into a meeting, because it distracted from the cause, and did not tolerate the consumption alcohol during meetings at all.

“This feels like a trick,” Bahorel said in mock suspicion, causing Jehan to whack him lightly on the arm.

Enjolras just rolled his eyes. “I just thought we could use this night to hang out instead of plan,” he said. Courfeyrac was immensely grateful for that. He had been dreading sitting through the meeting, waiting for his chance to speak at the end. Or worse, saying something before the meeting and being all too aware of the looks tossed his way during it, dreading the responses he got once Enjolras had finished his agenda.

“Does anyone have anything to say now beforehand though?” Enjolras asked.

Cold fear ran through him, but he steeled himself against it and stood up. “I do,” he said, proud that he had managed to keep his voice steady for those two words at least. He glanced around the room. Enjolras gave him an encouraging nod, while Grantaire looked nearly as anxious as he felt. Jehan gave him a broad smile and a wink. Everyone else looked at him in mild curiosity, though he noticed Combeferre wore a frown of confusion.

“I first want to thank you all for being as welcoming as you have been,” he began, knowing his was beating around the bush a bit but needing to work up the courage to say the actual words. He had thought about just not using the hormone shampoo today, but had been too afraid to walk out their apartment smelling like a defiled omega.

“I haven’t really been completely honest with you,” he confessed, looking down at the floor unable to meet any of their eyes. “I hope you’ll forgive me.” He bit his lips, realizing he couldn’t really stall any longer. He had gotten this far. He may as well say the words. “I’ve been hiding as a beta for a long time, but I’m an omega.”

He looked up as he said the words, needing to see his friends’ true reactions. Most of them were looking at him with stunned expressions. He couldn’t blame them. Playing a beta might not have been easy for him, but he had gotten rather good at it throughout the years. Jehan was still smiling though, and after a while Bahorel’s laugh broke the silence.

Courfeyrac looked at him stricken, thinking he was brushing his confession off as a joke, but the tall man was pointing a finger at Enjolras in mock accusation. “You knew, you sly devil!” he cried. “I knew the whole night off thing was a farce.”

Everyone else laughed as Enjolras sat up straighter, muttering something about not telling secrets that weren’t his. Courfeyrac sat back down, trying to ignore the indecipherable intense look that Combeferre was giving him.

“You know we don’t care, right?” Marius asked earnestly, the beta giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Yes, it does,” Combeferre said seriously, standing up and still giving Courfeyrac that intense stare. “Courfeyrac, may I please speak with you in private?”

A part of Courfeyrac quailed at the imposing figure Combeferre struck. A few of the other Amis moved to protest, but a look from Enjolras, coupled with Jehan’s hand stilling Bahorel, was enough to silence them.

Courfeyrac nodded, standing up and following Combeferre back to his bedroom, not missing the fearful and betrayed look Grantaire shot Enjolras.

He didn’t know what he expected when the door closed behind them. This Combeferre was so different from the one he had come to know. He had never seen him look so emotionless.

What he did not expect, though, was for Combeferre’s lips to cover his immediately.

He froze only a second before kissing back greedily, clutching Combeferre’s shoulders desperately as he felt his knees threaten to give out from underneath him.

He could scarce believe this was real as Combeferre groaned and pushed him gently against the wall before deepening the kiss. Courfeyrac moved his hands to Combeferre’s neck. When Combeferre moved to pull back, he surged forward, drawing him back in, not wanting the kiss to end. Combeferre obliged, nipping his bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, causing Courfeyrac to moan into his mouth.

His lungs began to burn for want of oxygen and they finally broke apart, both panting and leaning their foreheads against each other’s.

“Sorry,” Combeferre gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “I shouldn’t have… attacked you like that,” he said, shame filling his eyes as he moved to pull away from Courfeyrac entirely.

Courfeyrac, however, was not going to let him go that easily. “If that is how you attack, feel free to attack me at any time,” he replied with a chuckle, keeping his hands firmly behind Combeferre’s neck and closing what little space the alpha had managed to put between them. “I’m not sure what’s happening, though, so you’re going to have to explain it to me. Because I thought you were angry at me for lying.”

Combeferre shook his head fiercely. “God, no,” he said, wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac’s waist.

“Then why…?” he stopped himself from asking, afraid he already knew the answer. Afraid Combeferre realized that he would need someone to bond with, that he was trying to make _Courfeyrac_ feel better about Combeferre chaining himself to him just to save his sorry life by displaying affections well before his heat hit.

Why else would he choose _now_?

But Combeferre answered his unasked question anyway. “Because I’ve been in love with you for weeks and have been resisting the urge to kiss you every time I see you,” he explained. “I know the omega-alpha ratio is too high, that there are too many omegas that die because they never bond with anyone. I thought loving a beta was selfish of me. And I’m sorry for that.”

Courfeyrac laughed lightly. “Why are you sorry for being selfless?”

“Because I could see that you had feelings for me too,” he said with a sad smile. “I’m not blind like Enjolras seems to be. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” he responded, looking down and not meeting Combeferre’s eyes. “I was _trying_ to keep my feelings hidden. You deserve someone better than me.”

Combeferre gently guided his face back up with a finger under his chin. “But I love _you_.”

“A defiled omega?” he said bitterly.

“A beautiful, wonderful, kind, and brilliant _person_ who deserves all the love in the world and who I am asking to settle for mine,” he replied seriously.

Courfeyrac looked at him in shock for a moment before he smiled shyly, blinking back tears. “I would settle for nothing less,” he said finally, receiving a smile in return. “I love you.”

Combeferre pulled him in for another kiss, with Courfeyrac melting against him in happiness, both of them forgetting about anything but each other for now.

#

“They’ve been in there a long time,” Grantaire muttered darkly. He hadn’t moved from his seat on the couch, despite everyone else having grabbed pizza and started mingling.

“Courfeyrac is fine, I promise you,” Enjolras assured him, having also remained exactly where he had been. Grantaire shot him a disbelieving look, but before he could say anything else, Bahorel dropped down into the seat next to him, with Jehan perching lightly on the arm of the sofa.

“I’m sure they’re making out by now,” he said with a laugh, taking a big bite of pizza and chewing it with a smile. Jehan rolled his eyes at his antics but looked fondly at his boyfriend.

“What?” he asked, drawing his brows together in confusion. He looked at Enjolras for confirmation.

He looked torn for a moment, glancing towards the hallway and then at Grantaire before sighing in defeat. “I don’t like telling other people’s secrets,” he stated with a frown.

Jehan smiled. “It doesn’t count if they are obvious about it,” he pointed out. Enjolras glared at him for a moment, causing the smile to morph into a serious expression before he nodded. “Or maybe it does. But that’s beside the point because they are hopefully working it out so it won’t be a secret for much longer.”

Relief like Grantaire had never known flooded through him. If they were right, and he had yet to know Jehan to be wrong, Courfeyrac was going to live. He felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of him.

Ever since he had met Courfeyrac, he had done everything in his power to ensure that the other omega survived, but had never seen a way to get him through his heat. Now, not only did he have help in making sure that Courfeyrac was taken care of, but the younger omega now had a chance to live a long and fulfilling life.

“So, ‘Taire,” Bahorel asked after washing his pizza down with a long pull of his beer. “Does this mean you’re an omega also?”

Grantaire’s eyes widened as Jehan pinched his alpha’s arm.

“Ouch,” he said with a pout, looking between Jehan and Enjolras. “Why are you both trying to kill me with your glares?”

“Why would you ask that?” Grantaire asked smoothly, not allowing either of them to answer.

Bahorel shrugged. “Courfeyrac and you have scents that are nearly identical. I assumed it was because you both kinda lived in each other pockets, but if he modifies his scent…”

“Grantaire does not have to answer any questions he doesn’t feel comfortable with,” Enjolras said firmly, staring Bahorel down with a dark frown.

Jehan tugged the large alpha away as he scrunched his face in confusion, but Grantaire turned fully towards Enjolras as it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Enjolras _knew_.

Tbc…


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but it was this or no update tonight :) Please let me know what you think!

He sat there staring at Enjolras, panicking inside. No, he had to be wrong. There was no way Enjolras could know.

But what Bahorel said about Courfeyrac and his scents made sense…

Shit, he had to know. He had known from the beginning about Courfeyrac. He had to have guessed about Grantaire. Had he done anything that would have confirmed Enjolras’ suspicions?

His mind raced as he examined all his interactions with Enjolras, but he didn’t _think_ he had done anything that would have given him away as an omega. But they had had a lot of conversations about defiled omegas, and he couldn’t begin to guess what his eyes had betrayed when talking about _that_.

Fuck, he should never have gotten involved with Les Amis. He should’ve let Courfeyrac go alone to that first meeting and then he wouldn’t be in this situation.

Because what was he supposed to do now? Now that Enjolras knew, the only thing the other man could possibly feel for him was pity, though he hadn’t had much of a shot for anything more to begin with. But he didn’t know if he could stomach the pity. Not from the other Amis and _definitely_ not from Enjolras.

He knew what his lot in life was and he had accepted it long ago. He didn’t need anyone’s _pity_.

“’Taire, are you alright?” Enjolras asked, brow furrowed in concern.

Grantaire shook himself out of his stupor, and internally cringed at how long he had apparently just sat there staring at Enjolras. “Fine, sorry,” he replied with a wan smile.

He wanted to ask if Enjolras really knew, but he was afraid. What if he were wrong? What if he were _right_ and Enjolras was just keeping quiet out of respect? What would he do if Grantaire acknowledged it?

“You don’t have to worry,” Enjolras said abruptly. “Your scents don’t smell _completely_ identical. No one would look twice if they weren’t around you both all of the time. And most would assume it was from living together if they did notice.”

“Not those that knew Courfeyrac wasn’t a beta,” he pointed out with a frown.

Enjolras looked at him with a smile. “But only people you already trusted would know that, right?” He then frowned as if a different thought had struck him. “Those are the only people who would know, right?”

“Unless they knew Courfeyrac from before,” Grantaire answered, jaw clenching as he thought of Courfeyrac’s parents and his ex-fiancé.

Enjolras did not look reassured by the statement. “Would they be looking for him?”

“They were when I first met Courf, but I don’t know if they still would be,” he said, trying to convince himself more than Enjolras. “They… didn’t treat him the best, but I can’t imagine they would care enough to hunt him down. And I doubt they’d think to look for a beta and not an omega.”

“I hope you both know that you can come to us if they do come looking,” Enjolras said seriously.

He gave a humorless chuckle. “I don’t think you have to worry about me. It’s not me who ran out on my wedding.”

“No, you’ve just been hiding him for five years,” he pointed out. “But please don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”

Grantaire sighed, his mind taking a double meaning to Enjolras’ words. Was he talking about Grantaire’s own past, despite not knowing anything about it? Was he talking about his heat? Or was he just talking about Courfeyrac’s past?

God, how was he ever supposed to have a normal conversation with Enjolras now when he was always going to second-guess his words and wonder if he really did _know_.

He made a show of checking the time on his watch and sighing. “I have a shift at the bar in about half an hour,” he lied. “Now that I know Courfeyrac is going to be okay, I should probably get going.”

“Would you like a ride?” Enjolras asked immediately.

Was he only asking because he was trying to protect the defenseless omega?

He pushed the question out of his mind. Enjolras was asking because he was a good person and a good friend. Though his mind could not help but flash back to the other night, when Enjolras realized how bad the neighborhood he worked and lived in was. Would he really be so concerned if Grantaire was the beta he pretended to be?

It was ridiculous thought. Hell, _Grantaire_ was be concerned about _Enjolras_ when he had spotted him outside the bar. He was reading something into nothing.

“I’m good,” he said, as he realized Enjolras was still waiting for an answer. “Just tell Courf where I went. I didn’t want to tell him I was leaving when I wasn’t sure how the meeting was going to go. If it had gone badly, I would’ve just called in.”

“Did you really believe it could’ve gone badly?” he asked softly, looking a bit hurt.

He smiled at him as he stood up. “I was hoping it wouldn’t, and you know me well enough by now to know that I don’t hope for things I believe won’t happen.”

Enjolras’ face positively glowed as his lips curved up gently. “Well, if we can make a cynic like you believe in something, I have no doubt that we can do anything.”

“Well, it’s hard not to believe in you, Apollo,” he retorted. At Enjolras’ stunned expression, he realized what he had said. Not wanting to say anything else that might betray his feelings and definitely not wanting to stick around any longer, wondering if Enjolras knew and who else might know or guess, he quickly said a hasty goodnight and, not giving Enjolras enough time to respond, left in a rush.

He breathed freely once the fresh night air hit him. Since he didn’t actually have to go to work, and since Courfeyrac wouldn’t be home anytime soon to worry about him, he decided to take a more roundabout way home, thinking that maybe the night air would help him clear his head.

He kept his head down as he walked out of habit. When he walked the streets near their apartment, it was to avoid the eyes of anymore who might recognize him as a former resident of Patron-Minette. Here, in the safe and cheery streets of Enjolras and Combeferre’s neighborhood, it was an unnecessary precaution.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a frisson of unease as he walked the nearly deserted streets.

He was regretting taking the long way back, especially when sky began to rumble ominously. He was honestly happy to reach his crummy neighborhood, but cursed his luck as the sky seemed to choose that very moment to open up.

He contemplated running the last couple of blocks to the apartment, but figured he was going to be soaked through by the time he got there anyway. So he plodded on at the same pace.

He was shivering by the time he got home.

On the upside, he was so miserable that he didn’t even care anymore if Enjolras knew about him or not. He simply stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed, content to just pass out and forget the world for the night.

#

Courfeyrac sighed as he woke up, burrowing deeper into the warm pillow beneath him. His eyes flew open, though, as the pillow moved. He jerked his head up, meeting the smiling green eyes of Combeferre.

He grinned as the night came flooding back to him. They never did rejoin the meeting.

Not that they did anything but talk and kiss, but _God_ , could Combeferre kiss.

For the first time in his life, Courfeyrac could say that he was completely happy in every way.

“Good morning,” Combeferre said, smiling down at him.

“Morning,” he replied, resting his head back against Combeferre’s shoulder.

It was strange how not strange the entire situation felt. He had never had anyone hold him like Combeferre was holding him. Even Andre, though he had been great at pretending to love him, hadn’t been as loving and caring as Combeferre. And he certainly had never felt as at home in Andre’s embrace.

He frowned at the thought of the alpha who had defiled him, a little bit of his happiness slipping away. He would have to tell Combeferre about him. He would have to tell Combeferre everything about his past.

“Something wrong?” the alpha asked, looking down at him in concern.

He shook his head and smiled. “No, just thinking,” he said, realizing it didn’t matter. His past was in his past, and while he would tell Combeferre about it, he knew the alpha wouldn’t care. He already knew he was defiled and didn’t seem to care. Hopefully, when he found out it was by Courfeyrac’s own choice, he’d forgive him that as well.

“Come on, then,” Combeferre said, throwing the covers off of them and dragging them both to their feet. “Breakfast time,” he stated, giving Courfeyrac a chaste kiss before leading him to the kitchen.

Enjolras was already there, sitting with a cup of coffee and looking at them with a raised eyebrow. “I see everything worked out well,” he commented, the corners of his mouth quirking upward.

Courfeyrac grinned at the blond alpha before glancing at Combeferre shyly. “They seemed to have.”

Combeferre gave me a fond smile before shooing him to the table as he set to work in the kitchen.

“I can’t stay long,” Courfeyrac warned, eyeing the clock on the wall. “I have work in a little over an hour and still have to get home and change.”

“I’ll drive you. It won’t take you half as long for you to get there that way,” Combeferre replied with a grin as he cracked a few eggs into a pan.

“You don’t have to,” Courfeyrac protested weakly, not really wanting to win if it meant spending more time with his alpha. _His_ alpha. It felt strange to think. He never thought he’d have an alpha after being defiled. His ex-fiancé certainly would not have earned _that_ title.

“I want to,” he assured, turning away to rummage through the refrigerator.

“You may as well get used to being taken care of,” Enjolras said in a low voice. “It’s in an alpha’s nature to take care of the omegas around us. Those of us in Les Amis try to not be intrusive or offensive about it, but we can’t really shake it. It’s not that we don’t think you’re capable of taking care of yourselves,” he added quickly, though Courfeyrac would have never accused any of them of that.

“I understand,” he replied just as softly with a reassuring smile. He knew it was similar to his instincts to defer to the alphas around him. The instincts could be fought and ignored if the need arose, but it was easier to just give in when there wasn’t anything to gain from fighting them.

“Besides,” he continued with a laugh. “It’s not as if I’m not used to being slightly coddled. Grantaire has sacrificed a lot to keep me safe these past years, and probably would’ve sacrificed more if he had to. I really don’t know how I could possibly repay him for that.”

Enjolras smiled with a faraway look in his eyes. Courfeyrac bit his lip, wondering if he dared ask Enjolras if he had feelings for his roommate. However, before he could make up his mind, his phone rang.

He frowned as he dug it out of his pocket, having forgotten it was even there in the first place. He couldn’t believe he slept with it last night. It was just a cheap flip phone, but he was usually extra careful with it, knowing they couldn’t really afford a replacement.

“Grantaire?” he answered after glancing at the caller ID. Enjolras looked like he was trying very hard to pretend that he wasn’t listening intently. It wasn’t working.

“Courf,” the other omega rasped over the phone, causing him to frown. “I’m assuming you didn’t come home last night?”

He cringed, hoping Grantaire hadn’t worried too much about him. “No, I stayed the night with Combeferre,” he admitted. “I hope I didn’t worry you.”

“No, I fell asleep as soon as I got home,” he replied, voice sounding off.

“’Taire, are you okay?” he asked. At the word, Enjolras immediately stopped trying to pretend to not be listening and was staring at the phone intently.

“No,” came the miserable reply. “I’m sick. Don’t come to the apartment or you’ll get sick too.”

“You sound terrible. Are you sure it’s not…?” he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence with Enjolras sitting right next to him. That wasn’t a conversation he had the right to have with the alpha unless absolutely necessary.

“It’s just a cold, I promise,” he replied hoarsely.

Courfeyrac wanted to argue that he couldn’t possibly be absolutely sure. Grantaire was rarely sick. How the hell was he supposed to know the difference between the cold and the onset symptoms of his heat? Cold and flu symptoms were _common_ the days before heat as the body prepared itself for the physiological changes to the reproduction system during heat. Grantaire knew that as well as he did.

But he couldn’t argue with him. Not with Enjolras and Combeferre looking on in concern.

“Feel better then,” he said instead. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I just need for you to not come and get sick too,” he said wearily before hanging up.

Courfeyrac stared at the phone in his hand, deeply troubled.

“Grantaire is sick?” Enjolras said, standing up and taking his coffee mug to the sink.

He nodded. “He doesn’t want me coming home and catching it.”

Or at least that’s what he said. What if he just didn’t want Courfeyrac coming home to watch him die?

He bit his lip hard to hold back the sob that threatened at the thought.

“You can borrow some of my clothes,” Combeferre offered. “They’ll be a bit big, but I’m sure we can manage.”

“Great, you can sort Courfeyrac out while I go over to take care of Grantaire,” Enjolras decided, grabbing his phone from the table.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac shared an amused look, both knowing that Enjolras had classes all day and that he _never_ skipped class. Courfeyrac was relieved though. If Grantaire _was_ about to go into heat, Enjolras would be there to bond with him. And if he _wasn’t_ …

His eyes widened. “Wait!” he stood and cried out to Enjolras, who was just about to walk out the door. He bit his lip thoughtfully as the blond alpha looked at him in askance.

Grantaire probably hadn’t showered today. Hell, he probably hadn’t even managed to get out of bed, and probably _wouldn’t_ if he felt half as miserable as he sounded. The shampoo he had used yesterday had probably worn off already. If he let Enjolras go over there, Enjolras would definitely find out that Grantaire wasn’t a beta.

But Enjolras had _feelings_ for Grantaire. Courfeyrac was certain if he went there and Grantaire _was_ going into heat, he would happily bond with him. Why would finding out he was an omega this way be worse?

“Take my keys,” he said finally, tossing his apartment keys to Enjolras. “Grantaire might not feel like getting out of bed to let you in. Just… don’t be angry with him.” Realizing how weird that sounded, he quickly added, “He gets really stubborn and stupid when he’s sick.”

Enjolras nodded seriously, giving Courfeyrac a knowing look before leaving.

He frowned after him. Could he possibly already know?

“Don’t worry,” Combeferre murmured, hugging him from behind. “Enjolras won’t let anything happen to Grantaire.”

“Do you both know?” he asked, turning around to face the alpha.

“I didn’t know until I saw Enjolras’ and your reaction to Grantaire being sick,” he answered. “I’m guessing Enjolras knows, not that he’s told me. He’s pretty serious about not betraying confidences.”

“Grantaire hasn’t told him,” he stated, certain of that fact.

“Maybe he didn’t have to,” Combeferre replied, wrapping his arms around him once more. “But don’t worry. Everything will work out.”

“I hope so,” Courfeyrac muttered, burying his head in Combeferre’s chest.

He had found his happiness. Now all that he wanted was for Grantaire to find his too.

Tbc…


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the chapter we've all been waiting for. Hope it doesn't disappoint :)

Grantaire shivered relentlessly under the blankets. It wasn’t even November yet, it shouldn’t be this fucking cold. He thought briefly of getting out of bed to get Courfeyrac’s blankets from his bed, but thought better of it. It wasn’t worth the effort it would take to move.

He would definitely be having words with their landlord, though, about that damn broken heater as soon as he was better.

He frowned as he heard the door open and shut, though Courfeyrac was obviously trying to be as quiet as possible. He told the idiot to stay away. Last thing they needed was for him to get sick as well. They couldn’t afford for either of them to take any time off from work.

“Grantaire?” a quiet voice that did _not_ belong to Courfeyrac said as the door to his bedroom creaked open.

Cautiously, he peeked his face out from underneath the blankets, shivering harder as the air hit his face. He must have been sicker than he thought, he realized. How high was his fever if he was hallucinating?

“Grantaire,” his hallucination said as it moved closer. It placed its hand on his forehead. Grantaire sighed in relief as the cool palm caressed his forehead, not even realizing how hot his face was before then. “Grantaire, you’re burning up!” the hallucination cried in alarm.

Wait, you couldn’t feel hallucinations…

“Enj’ras?” he slurred, blinking up blurrily at the alpha. Vaguely, he knew he should be alarmed that he was here, but it took too much energy to figure out why. He shivered again, burying his face once more in an attempt to get warm.

He cried out weakly in protest as the edge of the blankets were gently pried from his hands and lifted from him. He didn’t have cause to complain for long, though, as a warm body slipped in next to him and pulled him close.

He sighed in relief at the new source of heat, shivers eventually stilling.

“My ‘Pollo,” he murmured sleepily, smiling despite his aching body.

“I’m here,” came the whispered answer. “Just rest. I’ll be here.”

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded, hands clutching the alpha’s shirt.

“Never,” he assured, arms tightening around him. “Just sleep now. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Figuring that sounded like good advice, he let his eyes slip close and gave in to the sleep that had been slowly creeping in.

 

He climbed towards consciousness grudgingly, feeling entirely too hot. He groaned as he tossed the blankets off of him. He had the strangest dream that Enjolras had come over to take care of him. He huffed a laugh as he turned over onto his stomach. That would have been a disaster.

He froze as a scent from his pillow reached his nose. The moment he recognized the smell was also the moment the owner walked into the bedroom, carrying a bowl carefully.

Enjolras smiled as Grantaire stared up at him, too shocked to move. “I made you some soup,” he explained, setting the bowl down gently onto the nightstand. “Are you feeling strong enough to eat it?”

He really couldn’t do anything but nod in answer. However, when he moved to push himself upright, his arms shook beneath him and he collapsed back onto the pillow.

“Easy,” Enjolras said, wrapping his arms around him and easing him up into a sitting position. Despite his complete confusion over the situation, Grantaire could not help but look at the alpha in amusement as he leaned Grantaire against the pile of pillows he hastily stacked against the wall and picked up the bowl and spoon.

“I’m a big boy, Apollo,” he rasped with a chuckle. “I think I can feed myself.”

Enjolras gave him a disbelieving look. “You had a dangerously high fever that still hasn’t gone all the way down to normal yet,” he said seriously. “Besides, do you really want to risk spilling hot soup all over you?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but Enjolras just stuck the spoon in his mouth and smiled innocently. He rolled his eyes before swallowing the broth, feeling sort of like a child being spoon-fed but also knowing Enjolras was right in that he probably didn’t have the strength to do so such as lift the spoon to his mouth.

Besides, it was kind of nice to be taken care of. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had let someone else take care of him.

He decided it was probably just easier to just eat the soup rather than argue, so he sat back and let Enjolras feed him. The alpha gave him a triumphant smile, causing Grantaire to roll his eyes.

It didn’t take him long to finish the soup, and he had to admit that he felt a bit stronger after eating. No wonder, he thought as he realized the afternoon sun was streaming through his window. He hadn’t eaten anything since before the meeting last night.

His blood ran cold as he realized what else the afternoon sun meant. He hadn’t showered since yesterday morning. Oh God. His shampoo had worn off long ago. He could smell himself. He reeked like the defiled omega he was.

“Grantaire, what is it?” Enjolras asked in alarm, setting the bowl down and putting his hands on Grantaire’s shoulders. “Are you alright? Please, answer me!” he cried, obviously growing more worried the longer Grantaire kept silent.

“How long have you known?” he demanded weakly, sitting up straighter and shrugging off the alpha’s hands. He might be in love with the man, but that didn’t mean he would take his pitying charity.

To his credit, Enjolras didn’t pretend to not understand him. “I guessed that first night at the Musain when you introduced yourself. After that, evidence just kept piling up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, ignoring the slight wavering of the world to push himself forward and glare at him in accusation.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable!” he said. “I thought you’d tell us in your own time…”

“And you came here for what?” Grantaire asked with narrowed eyes. “Heard I was sick and thought I was going into heat? What was your plan, Enjolras? Fuck me through my heat and call it charity? Martyr yourself by bonding with the poor defiled omega? Would you have even asked what I wanted?”

Enjolras was looking at him with such shock and hurt that he nearly took the words back. Before he could, though, anger burned away whatever hurt there was in his expression.

“If you think I would have just forced you to bond with me, you don’t know me at all!” he hissed, rising from the bed, unconsciously releasing his pheromones, which definitely did not help Grantaire’s dizzy head.

“So you would have just let me die, then, if I had asked?” Grantaire shot back.

Enjolras glared down at him in frustration, fists clenched at his sides. “Of course not!” he cried. He deflated and sank back down onto the bed, reaching out to desperately clutch the omega’s hand. “’Taire, do you have any idea how much you mean to me? I would understand if you didn’t want me, but that doesn’t mean I would leave you to die! I would have gotten anyone here that you wanted. I just… can’t just let you die,” he finished meekly, hanging his head.

“I’m not that special, Apollo,” Grantaire said with a sad smile, leaning back against the pillow wearily. “You’d forget about me in time.”

He jerked his head up and glared at him once more. “ _No_ , I _wouldn’t_ ,” he growled. “Grantaire, I _love_ you! How do you not see how amazing you are? Just… please, at least let me help you find someone to bond with.”

“No,” he whispered, swallowing thickly against the emotions that rose within him at Enjolras’ plea. He knew he couldn’t deny Enjolras anything, but this couldn’t be real. Enjolras _couldn’t_ …

“Grantaire, _please_ ,” he begged in quiet desperation, tears pooling in his blue eyes.

“No, I mean, you don’t have to find someone for me to bond with because the only one I want is you,” he clarified, allowing himself to dare to hope.

Enjolras froze for a moment, not even breathing, before surging forward and bringing their mouths together in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Grantaire felt the world spin around him, but he didn’t care. All he was focused on was Enjolras, who was carefully drawing him into his arms, one hand tangling in his curls and the other wrapped firmly around his back as Grantaire’s own arms wrapped around the alpha’s waist.

Enjolras pulled away first and Grantaire collapsed against him, feeling exhausted and drained, but hopeful and happy.

It was a strange feeling for him.

“You need to rest,” Enjolras murmured, carding his fingers through his dark hair. “You’re still sick.”

“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, burying his face in Enjolras’ chest. “Should leave. Gonna get you sick too.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, laying them both down on the bed and wrapping the covers carefully around Grantaire.

“I love you,” Grantaire said sleepily, curling up into Enjolras’ embrace. “But I’m still not sure this isn’t a dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” Enjolras’ voice assured him as sleep crept over him. “I love you.”

He gave into sleep with a smile. He knew he was giving in to hope too quickly, but he was too tired to fight it too much. And he didn’t really want to. He’d deal with it later if it all went to hell.

#

Courfeyrac watched as the clock slowly ticked toward 5:00. Why did it always seem like the last five minutes always went by the slowest, especially when you were anxious about something.

He knew that Grantaire wasn’t going into heat. Enjolras had texted him and confirmed that it was just a cold, but he hadn’t given Courfeyrac any other details.

Surely those two idiots had realized they were both head over heels in love with each other by now.

Finally, the clock ticked over to five, to his immense relief. He was out from behind the counter quickly, told the librarian that he was leaving, and walked outside, looking left and right and finally spotting Jehan waving out of the passenger side window of Bahorel’s Jeep a few cars down.

He grinned and waved in greeting before beginning towards them. Combeferre had texted him, saying that he had class until six but that Bahorel and Jehan had agreed to pick him up and keep him occupied until Combeferre could join him.

He had rolled his eyes fondly at the text, wondering if this was more to do with them now knowing about Courfeyrac being an omega than it was about Grantaire being sick and him needing somewhere to go. He wouldn’t begrudge them, though, if it were. He knew it would take them some time to get used to it.

“Courfeyrac,” a gruff voice called before he could reach Bahorel’s Jeep. It came from the dark, expensive car parked right in front of Bahorel. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it before. The care was conspicuous parked on the curb of the rundown street the library was on. “Get in the car.”

Terror ran through him as he saw the face of the man the voice belonged to through the open window.

He’d found him.

Oh, God, not now. Not when everything was _finally_ looking like it would all work out. Not now that he had Combeferre.

No, he wasn’t going to let him ruin this. Not now. Not ever.

“No,” he said firmly, moving to walk away.

“Are you really willing to risk your roommate’s life to get back at your parents and me?”  Felix Tholomyes said smoothly.

He felt as if the alpha had just sucker-punched him in the gut. “What?”

Tholomyes just chuckled condescendingly. “I’ll give you three days. Say your goodbyes, make sure none of your little… friends… come looking for you, and then come to me. You know where to find me.”

“Or what?” he asked breathlessly.

The alpha smiled cruelly. “Or your roommate gets a visit from the dogs of Patron-Minette.”

Tbc…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a mean place to leave it, I know. Sorry :( Let me know what you think, though! I really enjoy hearing from you all, even if I don't always have time to reply!


	8. Chapter Eight

Courfeyrac looked down at the blank pieces of paper on the table and honestly didn’t know what to write.

It was Wednesday night. One day was already gone from the three-day deadline that Felix had given him. He had wanted to take the entire three days, but knew he would never get away with sneaking off if he did.

He had kept the encounter quiet, telling Bahorel and Jehan that Felix was just some rich old guy who had lost his way and was looking for the highway. Bahorel had let it go easy enough, but Jehan had looked at him with doubt in his eyes.

That when he knew he’d have to plan carefully, especially with Jehan already suspicious. He hadn’t known how he was supposed to pull it off without Grantaire finding out though. All the planning in the world seemed hopeless to him when trying pull the wool over the other omega’s eyes, which was useful when they were trying to stay alive but was a nuisance when he was planning on…

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It didn’t matter what happened to him. Whatever Felix wanted to do with him, he could. Just as long as Grantaire and the rest of his friends were safe.

He had very carefully not thought of Combeferre during his planning. If he had thought about the alpha and how, for one glorious day, he had thought they would have forever, well, he didn’t know if he could go through with the plan.

But that future was lost to him. Because there was no way he was feeding Grantaire to the wolves. He couldn’t do that. Grantaire deserved _so much_ better than he had always been given. And Courfeyrac was _sure_ Enjolras would give him all of that and more. After seeing how _happy_ , if disbelieving, Grantaire was with Enjolras…

Courfeyrac couldn’t take that away from him. Grantaire had kept him safe and as happy as possible these last five years. How could he repay him by having Patron-Minette sent after him?

If he had waited until the end of the deadline, he might lose his nerve. Besides, it would be weird for him not to sleep over with Combeferre Thursday after the meeting or Friday night, especially with Grantaire having shifts at the bar those nights. Combeferre, now that he knew Courfeyrac was an omega, felt uneasy with him staying alone at their apartment given the type of neighborhood they lived in.

He felt extremely guilty for lying to the alpha about tonight. He had told him that Grantaire would be home. With Grantaire safely away at the bar, thinking that Courfeyrac was with Combeferre, it gave him the window of time he needed.

Now if he could only get the three letters he had to write written, he could be off.

Enjolras was the easiest, he decided, putting pen to paper and writing what needed to be said. He wanted to express his gratitude, and tell him to look after Grantaire and Combeferre, something he was sure the alpha would do regardless.

Grantaire’s was harder.

He had always been honest with Grantaire in the past, should he be honest in his farewell? It would kill Grantaire to know _why_ he was leaving. He couldn’t do that to him. It would haunt him forever.

He decided to leave it as vague as possible, knowing nothing he could say would convince Grantaire that everything was alright. He just hoped he’d been able to stress how important it was to let him do this and to not try and find him.

Combeferre was the hardest though.

How did you say goodbye to someone you never wanted to be apart from? He wanted to write something that would make things easier for the alpha, make him doubt Courfeyrac’s love and make him easier to get over, but that seemed crueler than anything else somehow.

He had lain away all night in Combeferre’s arms, just staring at the alpha and wanting so much to never leave him.

He had to make sure Combeferre knew that even though he was leaving, he would love him until the day that he died.

Which would probably be sooner rather than later.

#

Grantaire rolled his eyes as he walked out of the bar and saw Enjolras waiting for him. “You know, you could have always come _inside_ if you’re so worried about me. Hell, why not just hang out at the bar for my entire shift?” he teased, not really minding at all.

He still couldn’t really believe his luck. How this wonderful, beautiful man could love _him_ was absolutely beyond him.

He had thought for sure that after he told Enjolras about his past, the alpha would reconsider his feelings. Which is why he told him every single gory detail. How his parents had thought an omega child useless and had sold him to the Thenardiers. How the Thenardiers had then sold him to anyone who had the money. How he had stolen from them and ran away in broad daylight when couldn’t take it anymore.

Anger had burned in Enjolras’ eyes afterwards, but when the alpha pulled him close and held him tight during the night, he had realized it wasn’t directed at him. The next morning, Enjolras told him he loved him no matter what, and the proceeded to drag him to the doctor for a complete check up.

If it had been anyone else, he would have been afraid they would leave him if his results came back with some STD or something, but not Enjolras. His stupid self trusted the alpha.

He hoped he wasn’t setting himself up for heartache.

“Is it such a crime to want to drive my boyfriend home from work?” Enjolras asked with a smile, before tugging him in for a kiss.

Grantaire went willing, loving the feeling of Enjolras’ lips on his, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip, his tongue slipping into his mouth.

Enjolras kissed him with a care he never knew possible, though he probably couldn’t base his expectations of a relationship with Enjolras on the… encounters… in the past.

“You can do whatever you want with your boyfriend,” Grantaire replied saucily as they broke apart. “And I do mean _whatever_ you want.”

He received an earnest look at the innuendo. “We’re taking this slow, alright?” he said, bringing a hand up to cup Grantaire’s cheek. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into _anything_. I don’t want anything from you that you aren’t fully willing and _ready_ to give.”

Grantaire swallowed thickly as emotion welled within him. Fuck, why did he have to be so _perfect_? How did he know Grantaire so _well_? Because of fucking course he was terrified of sex with Enjolras. All sex had ever been for him was something that had to be suffered through in order to not receive a beating the next day. With Enjolras, he wanted to _enjoy_ it.

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat and stepping away towards the car. “So my place or yours? Yours is nicer, of course, but Combeferre and Courfeyrac are bound to be acting disgustingly sweet.”

“Courfeyrac isn’t at our place,” Enjolras replied with a frown.

Grantaire paused and looked at him carefully. “Are you sure? He told me he would be.”

Enjolras nodded. “Yes. I thought it was odd with you at work, but with Combeferre frowning over his textbooks, I didn’t want to disturb him with questions.”

Grantaire’s mind was racing. He had to be overreacting. Courfeyrac must have just forgotten that he was staying in tonight to let Combeferre study. Surely that was it. Nothing to worry about.

So why was he going out of his mind with worry?

He threw open the door to Enjolras’ car quickly. “Hurry,” he said tensely. “Get me home. I have a bad feeling about this.”

The alpha was confused but did ask Grantaire asked. He had never been so glad that they lived in the shitty little neighborhood his bar was at. As soon as the car stopped, he flew out the door and up the stairs, taking them two at a time to get to their apartment.

He burst in with a cry of “Courf!” but there was no answer.

On the table, though, sat three white envelopes, each addressed with a name.

#

Felix smiled at him when his butler brought him to his office. Courfeyrac had barely refrained from making a snarky comment because _of course_ Felix Tholomyes would have a _butler_. He probably had at least two other servants as well.

He wondered if they hated the alpha as much as he did.

Felix gave him a shark-like grin. “I must say, Courfeyrac, you surprised me,” he said in a pompous tone. “I did not expect you until Friday.”

He stood from his desk and walked over to the omega, bending down and sniffing at his neck. “I’m glad you got rid of that awful fake beta smell. I must say, you do smell incredible,” he said, pulling back with a leer. “Most alphas are put off by the smell of defiled omega, but your kind never smell _bad_. And an alpha can pretty much do whatever he wants to a defiled omega. After all, you’re dead anyway.”

Courfeyrac clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He wanted to argue, but in his case, wasn’t it true?

“Open your eyes,” Felix snapped. Courfeyrac obeyed immediately, only to see a hand flying towards his face. His head jerked to the side as Felix backhanded him. He was barely able to retain enough of his balance to stay on his feet.

Before he could realize what a bad idea it was, he had already thrown a fist forward, the punch aimed at the alpha’s head. Felix caught it with surprisingly good reflexes for an older alpha and laughed at him.

“You’ve spent too much time living as a beta,” he spat, throwing Courfeyrac’s fist away and grabbing a handful of his dark curls. He cried out in pain as his hair was mercilessly twisted and used to pull him closer to the vile alpha. “Did you really think your alpha would let you throw a punch at him without consequences?”

“You are not _my_ alpha,” he replied with a snarl. Combeferre was the one who owned that title, and he always would.

“Make no mistake, boy,” Tholomyes said seriously, leaning in closer. “You are _mine_.”

He sealed the words with a brutal kiss, biting into Courfeyrac’s mouth and _taking_.

He tried to pull back, but the grip on his hair was relentless. Tears leaked from his eyes as he realized this was his life now. This was all he had to look forward to until the day he died.

Perhaps if he had just married Felix to begin with, if he had never run away, the alpha would have been kinder to him. But then he wouldn’t have met Combeferre or Grantaire or Enjolras or any of the Amis.

His time with them was worth the pain in the end.

Felix pulled back and grinned down at him, Courfeyrac’s own blood coloring his teeth red. “I hope you didn’t think that your _sacrifice_ would actually save your friend’s life,” he taunted, causing icy fear to shoot through the omega. “But the filthy whore _did_ hide you from me for five years. He had to pay.”

 _Grantaire_ , he thought in a panic, turning and making to dart for the door. He cried out as his head jerked backwards from the rough tug on his hair, losing his feet this time and staring up at Felix’s smug face.

The alpha leaned over him and pulled his head up by his hair in order to whisper in his ear. “If you think you’re ever leaving this house again, you can think again, little slut. What little life you have left is mine, and I will smother it out of you in the comfort of my own home.”

Tbc…


	9. Chapter Nine

_Grantaire-_

_Words cannot express how grateful I am for everything you have ever done for me. You saved my life. I can never repay you for that._

_I know you’re going to be angry with me when you read this, but this is my choice. I had to leave. Staying wasn’t an option for me anymore. It’s nobody’s fault, so please none of you blame yourselves._

_I love you all so much, but I just can’t stay. Please don’t look for me._

_All my love,_

_Courfeyrac_

The words blurred before him and the paper crumpled in his hand. Courfeyrac was right. He _was_ angry. The pounded the fist clenching the letter into the table in frustration.

This was all wrong.

Courfeyrac should have come to him. They would have figured things out. They always did. No matter what problem they were facing, they always got through it because they were _together_.

And now where was Courfeyrac?

“He’s gone?” Enjolras asked in disbelief, lowering his own letter. He furrowed his brow. “This doesn’t make sense. He was _happy_ here. Wasn’t he?” The question was asked in uncertainty.

“Of course he was,” Grantaire said shortly, trying to think through the haze of anger, not directed at Courfeyrac but directed at _someone_. But who? “Someone must have gotten to him and convinced him he had to leave.”

“Who?”

Grantaire knew who was the most likely suspect, but how the hell had the pompous old alpha convinced Courfeyrac to leave Combeferre for him? The notion was absolutely ridiculous. What kind of power over the omega could Tholomyes have?

He shrugged helplessly and collapsed into a chair. “His ex-fiance maybe. Or maybe an enemy of Combeferre and you? Surely you’ve both made them?”

Enjolras nodded, staring at Grantaire with worry in his eyes. “We need to call the others.”

He nodded numbly, staring at the paper in his hand.

“We’ll get him back, ‘Taire,” Enjolras promised, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “We’ll bring him home.”

He wanted to believe Enjolras, but for the first time since he met the man, he wasn’t able to.

#

He was an idiot.

He should have _warned_ Grantaire that Tholomyes knew about him and had threatened to send Patron-Minette after him. He should have at least done _something_ that would have tipped _someone_ off to the danger that was there.

Instead, Courfeyrac had kept everything to himself. Had decided that _he_ was the best one to handle the situation and that he needed absolutely no help to do it.

Which was so fucking stupid of him. Since when did _he_ need no help at all? Hell, he _always_ needed help. He couldn’t seem to do a damn thing right by himself.

If he had been left on his own all those years ago, he would have ended up at the bottom of the river. Instead, Grantaire had stopped him, made his life worth living, kept him alive, kept him _hidden_ , and given him the courage to come out to their friends, which had allowed him to find happiness in Combeferre’s arms for a short while at least.

And how does Courfeyrac repay him?

He gets the bastards from Patron-Minette led to his fucking door, all the while not able to do a damn thing because he’s locked inside this fucking room.

He glared around at the room in disgust. It was ornate and richly decorated, just like all of Felix’s mansion was. Heaven forbid one room look like it wasn’t dripping in wealth, even if that room was used to imprison his future spouse.

He was going to die locked away from the world, just as he always feared. Except these locks were more literal than he had imagined as a teenager.

He buried his face in a slippery pillow on the bed, anger slipping away as sorrow and fear crept in.

How long did he have left to live, he wondered morbidly. Felix would marry him quickly, he was sure. He had probably already spread a rumor about how ill his poor, bedridden fiancé was, and how they had to have a quiet and private ceremony because of it. The same lies would probably be fed to the doctors he got to impregnate him, telling some sob story about how his omega wanted children before he died and was afraid he’d die before his heat.

The thought of it made Courfeyrac ill. Not only because it was happening to him, but because the tale did not sound unfamiliar.

How many similar stories had he heard growing up? How many alphas in his parents’ social circle saw omegas as just an expendable means to an end?

The world was changing, he knew, and soon these people wouldn’t be able to get away with doing these types of things. But how many omegas would pay the price until that day came?

He had never been more proud of Les Amis for fighting against the system that just accepted the deaths of omegas like him, and he had never been more sorry that he wouldn’t live long enough to see them triumphant.

Because he knew they’d win.

With Combeferre and Enjolras leading them, how could they lose?

A fresh wave of guilt washed over him as he realized his actions might compromise them.

He was sure Combeferre would be able to go on without him. He was so strong and steady all the time. He selfishly wanted the alpha to miss him, but he also hoped he would forget. After all, they had only been together for a few days. And while Combeferre said he had loved him for weeks, that was still a very short amount of time. He’d be able to carry on, though he’d definitely be thrown off his game for a while.

Which meant he wouldn’t be able to do damage control once Enjolras fell apart.

Because Enjolras was _so_ in love with Grantaire. What if Patron-Minette _did_ find him because of Courfeyrac? What if Enjolras wasn’t able to get him back? How would the blond alpha cope if his omega was ripped from him so tragically?

Shit, he had ruined _everything_.

He couldn’t let this happen.

He sat up with fierce determination, glancing around the room once more and thinking.

He had to get out of here.

He couldn’t let everything be ruined because of _him_.

#

“Quiet!” Enjolras’ commanding voice cut through the mayhem that had erupted as soon as it had been announced that Courfeyrac was missing.

Grantaire looked around Enjolras’ apartment, where they gathered to hear the news. Combeferre hadn’t even looked up as Enjolras cut through the din.

Grantaire knew the alpha had taken the news hard, but he seemed determined to channel his pain into figuring out who could have taken Courfeyrac. At the moment, he was furiously writing a list of names on a sheet of paper, double checking information on his laptop as he went.

Enjolras kept shooting him worried glances, which Grantaire understood. He had never seen Combeferre act so frantically. Given that the alpha was usually the epitome of calm, it was unnerving.

Of course, Enjolras kept shooting him concerned looks as well, looking as if he didn’t know which man sitting next to him he should be _more_ worried about. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him.

Grantaire was trying hard to keep it together, but apparently it wasn’t working so well.

“We know someone made Courfeyrac leave. Has anyone noticed anyone odd approaching him lately?” Enjolras asked, looking around the room desperately.

“Some rich old alpha was speaking to him yesterday when Jehan and I picked him up,” Bahorel volunteered immediately.

Jehan nodded. “He said it was someone just asking for directions, but he looked shaken.”

“‘Rich old alpha’ doesn’t really help us much in narrowing down the list,” Combeferre said tightly, clutching the pen he was using so hard that Grantaire was half-amazed it hadn’t snapped yet. “There are a lot of rich old alphas that hate us.”

“We need to understand _why_ Courfeyrac left,” Enjolras stated, looking around the room as if hoping one of them might have the answer. “If we can understand that, maybe we can figure out who made him leave.”

They were all silent. Grantaire racked his brain for an answer. _What_ would make Courfeyrac leave without telling anyone? Without telling _him_? Courfeyrac _always_ told him _everything_ , even when he really didn’t want Grantaire to know, like the time that asshole of an alpha found out he was an omega and tried to blackmail him into having sex with him.

Courfeyrac had never admitted it, but he was pretty sure that the only reason the other omega hadn’t taken him up on the offer was because he knew Grantaire would be furious. And he would have been. He wouldn’t have cared _how_ close the Thenardiers had—

“Fuck,” he exhaled, the whispered noise clearly heard in the silent room. “Nobody threatened _him_ into leaving. They threatened _me_ to get him to leave.”

His mind was racing. Who would have known about him that wanted Courfeyrac? Who could have…?

Enjolras stiffened at his side and grabbed his hand as if he were afraid Grantaire would disappear. “What are you talking about?” he asked, voice sounding strained. “Do you know who?”

He sighed, wanting to both lean into Enjolras for support and pull away because of the reminder of his past. In the end, he just held on to Enjolras’ hand just as tightly as the other man was clutching his. “The Thenardiers are still after me,” he answered. “It wouldn’t take much for someone who knew my name and that I was an omega to figure that out.”

Enjolras’ grip on his hand impossibly got tighter. He noticed that no one really seemed surprised by the revelation that he was an omega, and vaguely wondered if that was because word had gotten around or if he was just that bad at hiding.

“You said before that once you knew Courfeyrac was an omega, it wasn’t hard to figure out I was for our scents,” Grantaire continued, looking at Enjolras. “The only one I can think of that would want Courfeyrac and who knew he was an omega is his ex-fiance.”

Everyone, barring Enjolras, looked surprised at that, even Combeferre, who Grantaire guessed Courfeyrac hadn’t got around to telling yet.

“Courfeyrac was engaged?” Bahorel asked the question they were all thinking.

Grantaire nodded. “After he was defiled,” he fought a wince at the word, “his parents arranged for him to get married to Felix Tholomyes, an alpha forty years older than him. Arranged meaning they paid him a hell of a lot of money to take him off their hands because _heaven forbid_ they be associated with a fallen omega,” he spat bitterly. “The plan was for Tholomyes to wed and bed him quickly, and have fertility doctors get him pregnant before his heat hit, because no one was under any delusions that he’d bond with his _husband_.”

Combeferre let out a strangled pained noise as Joly gasped in horror. They, at least, knew _exactly_ what the implications of that kind of procedure were.

“What is it?” Bossuet asked, looking to Joly as Combeferre looked as if speech were beyond him.

He swallowed thickly before answering. “It is an extremely radical procedure only done in the very _desperate_ circumstances.” His eyes darted around the room, but he seemed unable to look Combeferre, Grantaire, or Jehan in the eye while speaking. “The impregnation is very painful, and the body fights against the pregnancy the entire gestation period, giving the omega period of extreme agony. And when labor hits…”

“The omega rarely survives,” Combeferre finished hollowly.

“It won’t happen,” Enjolras said forcefully, commanding their attention once more. “We are getting Courfeyrac back before any of it happens.”

“What if he won’t come with us?” Marius asked timidly. “He knew what kind of life he’d have if he went back to Tholomyes. The threat against Grantaire must be very real for him to have chosen that instead.”

Guilt crashed over Grantaire once more at the words. Courfeyrac should _never_ have to face what he was currently facing, least of all for _him_.

“Marius has a point,” he said reluctantly. “I don’t care what happens to me, but Courfeyrac is stubborn. He was ready to throw himself off a bridge when I first met him rather than go back to Tholomyes. Whatever the man said to him, it must’ve been enough to convince him that he would really send the Thenardiers after me.”

“What will they do if they find you?” Jehan asked, eyes full of fear for Grantaire.

“Same thing they would’ve done to me before I ran away, I expect,” he said bitterly. “Whore me out to whoever would pay and then when my heat hits, make as much money as possible. But that doesn’t matter right now. We have to focus on getting Courfeyrac back. Tholomyes is likely to get them married and Courfeyrac pregnant as soon as possible. We don’t have much time.”

“We can find his address easily enough,” Feuilly said, grabbing Combeferre’s laptop from the subdued alpha and getting to work. “That’s a good place to start.”

“We’ll find him,” Enjolras said softly, placing a comforting hand on Combeferre’s shoulder. He looked at Grantaire then. “We’re not letting _anyone_ be taken from us.”

#

Courfeyrac furiously scraped the nail across the seal to the window, hissing at the metal dug into his already sore fingertips. The window wasn’t locked—it was sealed shuts with some sort of resin. If he could just scrape _that_ away, he could…

Jump from the third story window?

He shook the thought away and kept scraping. It was the only plan he _had_. Besides, he had already nearly ripped off two fingernails in the process of prying the nail from the molding along the floor.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He had been working on the window for at least four hours, but he could see that it _was_ paying off. He already felt some give when he tried to raise the window. Just a little more…

He tried very hard not to think of Felix or Grantaire as he worked. Grantaire he was doing his best to get to, and Felix’s explicit threats from when he visited the night before were not worth remembering.

He shuddered as he remembered them anyway though. He supposed he should be grateful that all the alpha did was _threaten_ last night instead of actually _doing_ the debasing acts he had promised, but the threats would have been enough to give him nightmares if he had bothered sleeping.

Instead, however, he had spent the night doing something a little more productive.

He had to stop himself from crying out in triumphant as he tried the window once more and it pulled away from the seal with a satisfying _squelch_. He clutched the window desperately as he looked down at the ground below though, gulping as he realized just how far the drop was.

Part of the roof extended under the window, though. If he scooted down the slope and dangled from the edge, the drop wouldn’t be _too_ bad. At the very worst, he’d break a limb or two, which didn’t sound nearly as bad as what would happen to Grantaire, and him, if he stayed here.

Taking a deep breath, he carefully crawled out the window and towards the edge of the roof. He balanced on the edge for a moment, knowing it was a bad idea to look down but unable to stop himself from peeking. Vertigo hit him like a brick but he fought to keep control of himself.

He opened his eyes, not realizing he had clenched them shut, before taking another deep breath. He could do this.

He was just about ready to lower himself down when he heard a voice cry out in a muted shout, “Courfeyrac!”

The sound of his own voice being called startled him so much that he lost his balance. His arms pin-wheeled in the air, trying desperately to regain his balance and not backwards, but it was too late. He toppled over the side of the roof, shutting his eyes and praying.

Tbc…


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I'm hoping the next chapter will be out soon and will probably be the last.

When the impact came, it came with a grunt of pain, but not from him.

It all happened so fast that he wasn’t really sure what was happening. The wind was knocked out of him as he hit something, which immediately wrapped around his body awkwardly. He kept falling, though, but not for much longer.

Soon, he was looking up at the barely pre-dawn sky and blinking in confusion. He ached and he didn’t really understand what was going on around him, but he didn’t feel as if anything was broken. He realized why when the voices around him finally started making sense.

“—feyrac? Please, talk to me,” Combeferre whispered in his ear as he shifted beneath him. Courfeyrac realized with a start that the alpha must have caught him when he fell. Or rather, he had stood under him and collapsed beneath him, softening Courfeyrac’s own impact but probably injurying himself.

“Marius,” he heard Enjolras hiss at the beta from somewhere unseen. “What were you thinking, startling him like that?”

“Sorry!” came the answer, the same quiet shout that had disturbed his balance from before. He now recognized the voice as belonging to Marius. “He startled me!”

“And you thought you’d get him back by returning the favor?” a different voice asked incredulously. It took him a moment to realize it belonged to Feuilly.

“Courf?” Combeferre said again, ignoring the hissed bickering on the men around them.

He finally got a hold of himself and quickly rolled off the alpha, gasping in horror. “Oh my God, ‘Ferre, are you okay?”

“Fine,” he said, belied by the wince that crossed his features as he sat up. His face smoothed into a picture of concern, though, as he brought a hand up to cup Courfeyrac’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked seriously.

He felt a sensation of relief flood him as he leaned into Combeferre’s touch, a feeling of safety settling over him. “I’m great now.”

Combeferre frowned, though, and gently turned Courfeyrac’s head slightly. His eyes darkened dangerously. “I’ll kill him.”

He winced as he realized what his alpha was talking about. He hadn’t thought to look in a mirror, but he was sure there was a fairly visible bruise on his cheek from where Felix had slapped him.

It was tempting to let them go deal with Tholomyes, especially with Enjolras and Feuilly both going into protective alpha mode behind Combeferre as well when they caught sight of the bruise. Marius was torn between looking at Courfeyrac in concern and glancing around the yard in apprehension.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m fine. Let’s just get out of here.”

Enjolras nodded and helped Courfeyrac to his feet, with Feuilly giving Combeferre a hand up as well.

“What were you doing on the roof?” Enjolras asked.

His stomach dropped as he realized that the reason he was escaping had completely slipped his mind in all the excitement. “Grantaire!” he gasped, whirling around and looking desperately at Enjolras.

“He’s fine,” the blond alpha assured. “The others are with him.”

Courfeyrac shook his head. “Patron-Minette knows where he is! They’re going to come after him! We have to get to him _now_! The others won’t be enough!”

He knew he was being slightly hysterical, but his best friend, his _brother_ , was in danger that _he_ put him in. He couldn’t really be _calm_ , now could he?

Combeferre put both hands on his shoulders. “Okay, we’ll go now, but you must calm down. Panicking won’t help him.”

Enjolras was already moving, so the other four quickly caught up with him and climbed into the alpha’s car, Enjolras barely waiting for all the doors to close before tearing off.

#

His knee bounced restlessly as he sat at on the sofa. He hated just sitting there, waiting. He felt so useless. He wasn’t used to that. For years, he had been taking care of himself and Courefeyrac on his own, relying on absolutely no one else. It was nerve-wracking to rely on other people, no matter how much he trusted them.

He hadn’t wanted to stay behind. Had actually been very adamant about going instead.

But Enjolras had _pleaded_ with him to stay behind.

“I need to know you’re safe,” he had said after pulling Grantaire aside. He had looked so desperate that Grantaire hadn’t been able to argue with him.

He couldn’t really blame Enjolras for being worried. Hell, he was worried too.

That was an understatement. To tell the truth, he was scared out of his mind.

He was scared for Courfeyrac, yes, but he knew that Combeferre, Enjolras, Feuilly and Marius would bring him back safely.

But he was terrified of the Thenardiers finding him.

Because they would, he knew. If Felix Tholomyes was terrible enough to threaten Grantaire to get Courfeyrac under his thumb, he definitely would be spiteful enough to sell Grantaire out for revenge.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle being taken back to Patron-Minette. If it was bad before he ran away, it would be worse now that he had pissed them all off by stealing from them and running off. And now that he had known a life away from them, he was sure if he could take it.

He had known that his time with Enjolras was too good to last, but he didn’t want it to end, not like this.

“It’ll be alright,” Jehan said softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. The smaller omega curled up next to him on the sofa and put his head on Grantaire’s shoulder. “None of us are going to let anything happen to you _or_ Courfeyrac.”

“What if they never stop coming after us though?” he asked, voicing his greatest fear. “What if they keep coming for us until they have us? Les Amis can’t protect us 24/7. And what if one of you get hurt in the process?”

“They won’t have any interest in either of you once your heat hits,” Joly assured from his place standing vigil by the window. Bahorel was keeping watch at the patio doors while Bossuet manned the front door. In truth, Grantaire should feel extremely safe, but all he felt was uneasy.

“He’s right,” Bahorel agreed seriously. “There’s no way Courfeyrac’s ex would be interested in a bonded omega. It wouldn’t reflect well on him in society,” he said, sneering in distaste. “And Patron-Minette wouldn’t be able to make money from a bonded omega either.”

That last bit Grantaire knew was true. There had been one or two bonded omegas who had lost their alphas come seeking employment at Patron-Minette while he was there. The Thenardiers had sneered at them and sent them away.

“They still might want me dead for stealing from them,” he pointed out.

Joly shook his head. “The Thenardiers are too greedy to care about revenge. We’ve come across them from time to time when trying to help omegas. They never take action unless there’s a profit in it for them. If they can’t make money off of you, they won’t care to come after you.”

“Maybe, but my heat could be years away. What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Trust us to protect you!” Jehan answered with finality. He stood up. “You’re shivering. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten you’re just getting over being sick. I’m getting you a blanket and then fixing you some nice tea and you’re going to drink it and rest.”

He rolled his eyes. “I thought it was the alphas who were supposed go all mother hen over omegas,” he muttered.

“Don’t stereotype me,” the other omega shot back with a mock glare before winking and heading towards the hallway.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Grantaire mumbled fondly, meeting Bahorel’s amused gaze and shaking his head.

The humor faded from him, though, when Jehan walked back in, knife at his throat and arm keeping him pressed firmly to the beta behind him. Grantaire flew to his feet and the others snapped their attention to the new threat.

Montparnasse smirked as Bahorel made a slight jerking motion as if to move forward and pressed the knife closer to Jehan’s skin. He clucked in admonitionment. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said in a grating singsong voice. He buried his nose in Jehan’s curly hair and inhaled deeply, moaning as he exhaled.

“Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?” Bahorel growled, visibly shaking with rage. Joly and Bossuet were also alert, looking for any way to safely get Jehan away from this threat.

“How rude of me,” he replied smoothly, grinning too sharply. “I assumed Grantaire told you all about me. The two of us go way back. I am Montparnasse.”

He and Montparnasse did indeed go way back. There wasn’t a time Grantaire remembered where the older beta boy wasn’t around Patron-Minette. The Thenardiers may have groomed him to help them run their enterprise, but the cruelty streak in him was something that came naturally to him. Fortunately for Grantaire, his tastes ran more towards the female variety, but that didn’t mean that he was any less cruel in non-sexual ways to the males.

And Grantaire _knew_ that he was a big part of the reason Eponine ran away, though she would never admit that to anyone.

He wasn’t surprised that Montparnasse was the one who was hunting him, and he certainly was surprised that the beta was alone. The man had an ego the size of the Grand Canyon. Though considering he had five people completely at his mercy, maybe the ego was well-deserved.

“Let him go, Montparnasse,” Grantaire demanded, sounding much braver than he felt.

He chuckled condescendingly at that. “Now, ‘Taire, you know I can’t do that. Besides, if I can’t show up with you, maybe Monsieur Thenardier will appreciate me bringing him this little succulent thing, a virgin by the smell of him,” he said, nuzzling the side of Jehan’s face. Jehan looked torn between disgust, fury, and terror. Bahorel just looked flat out pissed. Montparnasse would have to have a pretty airtight plan to get out of here without Bahorel beating him to a pulp.

And Grantaire was extremely afraid that he did.

“I’m not unreasonable, though,” Montparnasse continued with a smile. He dug the knife so deep into Jehan’s skin that Grantaire was surprised he hadn’t drawn blood yet. He then took his other hand and reached into his pocket before tossing a small back case onto the sofa. “Inside that case is a syringe. Inject yourself with its contents and I _might_ just let your friend here go.”

“Grantaire, _don’t_ ,” Joly warned as Grantaire picked up the case. His eyes held a fear that was beyond the knife Montparnasse was holding to Jehan’s throat, but Grantaire didn’t really have a choice.

“I have to,” he said, opening the case and pulling out the full syringe.

None of the others looked too happy with his decision. Jehan looked like he wanted to argue, but Grantaire was glad he didn’t. Not only would his words not help Grantaire, he was afraid that if the other omega spoke, his throat would move ever so much and get sliced open by the knife.

“Let me do it!” Joly begged, looking at Montparnasse imploringly. “You have no idea what kind of damage can be done by an untrained hand stabbing a needle into someone! I doubt your employer would get much money from an omega who has septic because he ripped an artery because he didn’t know how to give himself an injection! Or one that dies of an air embolism because there was an air bubble in the syringe!”

Montparnasse looked thoughtful before a moment before shaking his head. “No, he does it. And if he dies, well, I have a consolation prize, now, don’t I?”

Joly knew something he didn’t, Grantaire realized, but he didn’t have time to think about his frightful look or Bahorel’s anger or Bossuet’s frustration. He couldn’t even think of Jehan’s fear, half of which he knew was for _Grantaire_ and not for his own sake.

He uncapped the syringe quickly and jabbed it into his upper arm. Whatever the liquid was, it burned as it flooded into him, causing him to wince from more than just the pain of the needle. He depressed the plunger only halfway, wrenching the needle out and tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, hoping Montparnasse didn’t notice him not taking the full dose.

Maybe that would be enough to stop whatever had Jehan feared.

Montparnasse’s sharp grin had appeared again, but Grantaire could hardly focus on it. The world was blurring at the edges. A deep ache spread through him, hurting him down to his bones and causing him to sway dangerously.

Before he knew what had happened, a strong arm was wrapped around him and a cold, sharp blade was pressed to his throat.

“Now that wasn’t so bad,” the oily voice purred in his ear. He shivered, not knowing if it were from fear or the chill that had settled over him. How could he be both burning up and freezing?

His eyes darted sluggishly around the room, taking in Bossuet’s frightened expression and Bahorel’s furious face as he cradled a terrified Jehan tightly to him. Joly, however, looked horrified, as if Montparnasse had already raked the knife across Grantaire’s throat.

If Grantaire had been able to concentrate a little more, Joly’s expression would have frightened him the most.

“Well, gentlemen, it has been fun, but I really must be going,” Montparnasse continued. “If you would be so kind to open the door,” he ordered, nodding towards Bossuet. Bossuet looked pained but reluctantly opened the door. “And if all of you would gather along that wall,” he gestured toward the wall opposite the door. They grudgingly did as they were told. “Wonderful. Say goodbye, Grantaire.”

He looked at the furious and frightened faces of his friends. He hoped they didn’t blame themselves for this. It wasn’t their fault.

And he hoped whatever fate awaited him wouldn’t haunt Enjolras too much.

A single tear streaked down his cheek as Montparnasse drug him backwards towards the door. For the second time that night, he felt completely _useless_.

Suddenly, the knife was wrenched from his throat and the arm around him was pulled away. His legs folded beneath him without Montparnasse supporting him and he would have hit the floor hard if other arms hadn’t caught him and lowered him gently.

Enjolras’ face swam above his blurry vision, causing him to smile. At least he would get to see his alpha one more time.

A furious roar came from somewhere behind him, but Enjolras’ focus didn’t shift from him.

How was he here? Where did Montparnasse go? How did Montparnasse get here in the first place?

His brain felt fuzzy with all these questions, but he couldn’t speak to release them.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras called softly. “Please, stay with me.”

There was fear in those beautiful blue eyes, fear that Grantaire wanted so badly to ease. But he wasn’t even able to follow the one simple command, he realized as his eyes slipped shut.

A world full of darkness and fire greeted him as consciousness left him.

Tbc…


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the thrilling conclusion :)

Combeferre had shoved him behind him as they neared the door to his and Enjolras’ apartment so he wasn’t able to see exactly what had happened. All Courfeyrac knew is that _someone_ had been backing out of the door, someone that was _not_ supposed to be there, and that they were dragging someone _else_ with them.

He wasn’t even sure it was Grantaire at first, though he had obviously assumed it was.

He was glad he hadn’t been able to see clearly because once the intruder was dealt with, with Bahorel, Feuilly, and Bossuet showing absolutely no mercy, his heart had stuttered upon the realization of how close they had come to losing Grantaire.

But they apparently weren’t out of the woods just yet.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked frantically, looking from Grantaire’s convulsing form to Joly’s grim expression.

“ _He_ ,” Joly said tightly, gesturing towards the unconscious form of Montparnasse, who Bossuet and Feuilly were guarding until the police showed up, “made Grantaire inject himself with something. I am not sure what it was.”

“But you have a guess,” Enjolras stated, looking up and staring at him imploringly.

He nodded with a frown. “There are compounds that trigger an omega’s heat. They’re extremely dangerous, especially if it’s the omega’s first heat. The body isn’t prepared. It still has to undergo the final changes that allow the omega to bear children. The compound accelerates those changes, which isn’t good for the body.”

“Will he survive?” Enjolras asked faintly, clutching Grantaire’s shaking form to him.

“It depends,” Joly answered with a grimace. “If his heat was close anyway, maybe. And he didn’t take the full dosage, so that’ll make the acceleration process slower, which will be easier on his body, but…”

Courfeyrac’s breath hitched as Joly trailed off and he choked back a sob. No, he couldn’t lose Grantaire. Not like this. Not after he _finally_ had found someone who loved him and who would bond with him and…

It wasn’t _fair_! Grantaire deserved _so much more_.

Combeferre was there suddenly, tugging him in and holding him close as tears began streaming down his face. He caught Jehan’s teary eyes and remembered that the other omega was no doubt feeling just as guilty as he was, despite the comfort Bahorel was trying to provide.

God, didn’t Grantaire realize how _selfish_ his stupid selflessness was?

He knew the thought was unfair, but it was a thought that came unbidden just by looking at the utterly heartbroken expression on Enjolras’ face.

“If he _were_ near heat anyway, and you bonded with him as soon as his heat hit, he might have a chance,” Joly said, trying to give them a tiny bit of hope.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” Enjolras said softly, tears falling silently into Grantaire’s curls.

“You’re his only hope now, Enjolras,” Combeferre stated sympathetically. “Take him to your room, keep him comfortable, and when his heat hits, don’t hesitate. He needs you to be strong for him.”

The blond nodded seriously before standing. He cradled Grantaire to his chest and carried him bridal style to his room.

“He’ll be alright,” Combeferre murmured into his hair as silent sobs wracked him. “Both of them are too stubborn. Neither one of them will let Grantaire die.”

“How did that bastard even get in here?” Bahorel raged, grip tightening on Jehan.

“Crafty asshole cut through the glass in Combeferre’s room,” Bossuet explained, looking down at the unconscious beta in disgust. “We weren’t guarding the bedroom windows because they were sealed shut. Didn’t think of anyone cutting through them.”

Courfeyrac could see the bitterness in Bossuet’s face and the guilt on everyone else’s face. He didn’t think any of them would forgive themselves if Grantaire died.

#

He was dying.

That was the only explanation that made sense to his pain-addled brain. His body felt as if he was being burned alive, but he couldn’t stop himself from shivering.

He phased in and out of consciousness, but whenever he opened his eyes, everything was blurry.

The only bright spot in his agony-filled world was Enjolras.

His alpha was with him the entire time, whispering comforting words to him as his body convulsed in pain and pouring water and broth into him as often as possible. Worst than his pain, though, was the anguish in his Apollo’s voice as he begged him to be strong, to fight, to live.

And he was trying. For Enjolras, he would try to do _anything_ , but fuck, was it hard when all he wanted to do was let the darkness take him.

The others, he knew, flitted in and out of his room, hopefully making sure that Enjolras was fed and rested as well.

His heart ached whenever Courfeyrac or Jehan would come in, each whispering how sorry they were, how this was all their fault, how they’d trade places with him if they could.

And fuck that, but he didn’t have the strength to argue with them.

He didn’t have the strength for anything.

He found himself wishing for death at times before vehemently taking it back, not wanting to disappoint the alpha who was constantly at his side. As time wore on, he forgot the blonde’s name, but he knew that he was always there, taking care of him, comforting him, fighting for him.

He had to be strong for him. He had to weather this agony for him.

He just hoped that he could.

#

“It’s been three days,” Courfeyrac said, curling into Combeferre on the alpha’s bed. He wasn’t able to cry anymore. He didn’t have any tears left. God, what kind of person was he? His best friend, his _brother_ , was lying in the next room, possibly _dying_ , and he couldn’t even shed another tear for him.

“It’s good that it’s taking so long,” Combeferre assured, wrapping him up tightly in his arms. “It means his body isn’t changing too abruptly. It’ll give him a stronger chance of surviving once the heat actually hits.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” he mumbled into Combeferre’s chest, heartsick at the thought of going on without Grantaire.

“You’d live your life to the fullest because you would know that is what Grantaire would want,” the alpha stated gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “But that doesn’t matter because Grantaire is going to live.”

“Do you really believe that or are you just saying that to make me feel better?” he asked, looking up into Combeferre’s face in order to gauge the man’s truthfulness.

“I really believe that,” he said earnestly. “The longer it takes for his heat to hit, the better his chances are. And the bond between him and Enjolras will be strong. He won’t burn out.”

 “All these years, neither of us thought we would survive our heats,” he said mournfully. “I thought we had better chances now.”

“You _both_ will survive your heats,” Combeferre said emphatically. “Grantaire is going to be fine. And when your heat hits, I promise I will be there. Not to keep you alive, but because I _want_ to bond with you, if you’ll have me.”

It was inappropriate for happiness to bubble through him when Grantaire was still in danger, but he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

#

He didn’t know how long he had been in pain before, suddenly, the fiery pain stopped, replaced with a different type of fire that ran through his body like lightening, transforming every brush of the sheets against his sweat-soaked skin into agonizing pleasure.

He moaned as he shifted and the fabric rubbed against his crotch. _Fuck_ , was that good. He tried to grind his hips up, seeking more friction, but he was too weak to move.

He whimpered in frustration. He needed _more_.

“Everyone _out_ ,” a beautiful voice snapped near him before cool hands were stroking his overheated skin and gentle lips were kissing his forehead. “ _Grantaire_ ,” the voice breathed reverently.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, trying to shift towards his alpha. “ _Enjolras_ ,” he whispered like a prayer, the name sticking out in his mind.

“Shh, I’m going to take care of you,” he promised, removing the sweat-soaked sheets from Grantaire, who whined as his only source of friction was taken away. He gasped loudly, though, when the alpha climbed on top of him, giving him delicious skin-on-skin contact.

He moaned loudly once more as he rubbed against Enjolras. It felt wonderful but he needed _more_. He felt… _empty_.

“Enjolras, _please_ ,” he pleaded, spreading his legs wide in an effort to give the alpha better access.

“ _Yes_ ,” the other breathed, giving him exactly what he wanted.

After that, Grantaire was lost in a haze of pleasure. The only thing keeping him grounded was the alpha connected to him in mind, spirit, and body.

 

He groaned as he woke up, feeling achy but otherwise alright. He frowned as he tried to remember what had happened. He remembered Montparnasse, and the knife at Jehan’s throat. And then the needle…

Fuck, the needle. Montparnasse had pushed him into _heat_. How the fuck was he alive?

The arm draped around him tightened and a burst of _happyrelievedregret_ flooded through him.

He gasped as he opened his eyes, twisting around to see Enjolras smiling down at him, pulling him close as Grantaire realized with a start that they were both completely naked under the sheets.

Suddenly, he remembered flashes of skin, a deep, wonderful pleasure, and the fusing of him and Enjolras together in every way possible.

He gaped at the beautiful man holding him for suddenly frowning. “You regret it,” he said, hating the bitterness of the regret flowing through his alpha.

Of course he regretted it. Who the hell would want to be bonded to _him_?

“I regret that it happened like this,” Enjolras was quick to correct. “I would _never_ regret bonding with you, but I _didn’t_ want you to be drugged and to nearly _die_. And I didn’t want you to have no choice in the matter, even if I knew you would choose me. I wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

Grantaire grinned, able to feel his sincerity through the bond. He craned his head upwards and pressed a gentle kiss to his Apollo’s lips. “I never wanted perfect. I just wanted you. And now I have you for the rest of my life. That’s all that matters.”

Enjolras smiled. “You’re right. I love you.”

And _feeling_ Enjolras’ love through the bond? That made everything worth it.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please drop me a comment and/or kudos if you did!
> 
> And now, I would like some input into my next project, which will be a lighthearted comedy as opposed to my other words, haha. I'll probably do both eventually, but which would you rather me work on first:
> 
> An Office AU, which is going to really challenging with all the potential of OoC-ness which I want to avoid, but is also gonna be really fun. I mean, come on, I'm gonna make Enjolras Michael Scott and Feuilly is gonna be Ryan. Enjolras/Grantaire, Combeferre/Courfeyrac of course.
> 
> or
> 
> A Big Bang Theory AU loosely based on the episode where Raj faces deportation. Again, e/R, C/C.


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